Her words dripping into his mind he couldn't bear to turn his head and look at her. She was right, they could never be safe around each other. It was always about power, about control. Had always been. And he had never been able to deal with her being in control of him.
You just gonna have to follow my lead. Her words had made him lose it, no matter what he had told Mason later on. Paired with that superior smile it had been too much for him to handle. Just like a few seconds ago when she had not only pointed the gun at him and ordered him around but even had the nerve to give up her position of power. And instead of wondering why or just be surprised, he had let his anger taking over, following an animalistic instinct to mark his territory.
"So what now?"
"I don't know, Jack," she replied, her voice still bearing anger. "I guess we are in for another round. Isn't that what we always do? You threaten me, I try to answer. Adding a few more lies and lives to the cost. In the end it all comes down to the same: We have to kill each other to move on."
"I thought we were clear about me not wanting to kill you anymore," he commented mockingly. "Not unless you give me a reason."
She snorted with contempt. "Another one?" She took her hand off her throat and stared at him intensely, irritated just to see the back of his head. "Doesn't matter. You still wanna bring me back to CTU, don't you?"
"Would that really be so bad?" he asked, his voice not giving away if he was serious or not.
She couldn't but smile at his words. "Are you seriously negotiating with me here? Are you asking me to let you turn me in?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Next thing you gonna tell me it doesn't matter if I sit around here or somewhere in a prison cell."
"Well, now you mentioned it - does it?" he asked, his tone almost casual. He didn't ask her for anything and wondered himself where this strange conversation was going or coming from, but talking was still to be preferred to another physical confrontation. At least for the moment. He moved his hand about a centimeter and the tips of his fingers touched the metal of the gun. His gun. In the middle of all the action he had landed right on his jacket and now his hand was just next to the gun, covered by his body, out of sight for her.
"I don't believe this. You are really offering me a deal? I stay alive and go to prison and you go home and justice prevails. Now that would just be perfect, wouldn't it?" Derision and contempt were glowing in her eyes. He would never change. Always putting up the moral standards everybody else had to live up to.
No, perfect would be something else, he thought regretful.
"Or why don't we wait until I get a chance to give my life to safe yours. Would that be my one shot to make things right? A little bit? If my last word would be sorry?" She shook her head. "We both know there is no way for me to redeem myself, so let's not get delusional here."
The words had just come out that way and when their impact hit her, it left her equally surprised and confused.
"Even if I could avoid death penalty - I will never go back to prison again," she added, hoping to take some of the emphasis off her last statement, ignoring the memories of her unpleasant time in jail.
His mind traveled back in time, back to when they had brought her out of prison. What a mistake. But a part of him had actually welcomed it and the opportunity it had offered. Prison had just seemed too good for her.
"So what's your suggestion? I let you walk and hope you behave? That didn't really work last time, did it?" He could feel her glare but still he didn't look in her direction, his voice still relatively calm but the words coming faster throughout the sentences. "You had all the chances to make a fresh start, Nina. You had your pardon, you had your exile and I'm sure you still had enough money somewhere on the side. You got a chance you never deserved in the first place, but you threw that one away as well, so don't even start!"
She stared at him angrily. "Bullshit, Jack. There was never a chance for me and you know it. You promised me to hunt me down. My life wasn't worth a dime down there and what do you know about limited exile anyway."
"I'm sure it was better than you deserved," he replied coolly.
She shot another killing glance at him before turning her head away. She was sick of it. She knew there were no justifications for her and she wished she could go back to the times when she hadn't bothered to make up any. What had happened to her? When had she started to care? When had she developed a conscience? She had lost her touch. Not too long ago she would not have had any second thoughts and Jack would be dead by now and she herself off to new grounds. She wouldn't even be here in the first place. She would never have stopped working. She would have killed him when she had the chance. Is that right? Then why didn't you? Why is he still alive? Her gaze wandered to the couch and her gun.
"You made your choices, Nina. No one forced you to turn against your country and the people who trusted you. And even if there was no going back for you later and you were ...", he struggled with the word, "forced to take certain actions - that still doesn't change a damn thing."
"If?" she asked mockingly, her eyes suddenly displaying a deep pain. It only lasted a second but long enough for Jack to notice. He straightened up and moved into a sitting position as well, facing her again, his eyes penetrating, his voice cold and clear. "You killed my wife! Nothing I could ever do or have done to you could possibly make up for that."
Her eyes fell on the gun in his hand, not pointing at her but steady in his hand which rested on his thigh. She returned to meet his gaze, her face expression blank again.
"I know."
He didn't show any reaction and for a long time they were just staring at each other, studying each other's features like a mirror image.
I know. The way she said it, something in her voice - the closest she had ever come to admitting. There is no way for me to redeem myself. To an apology. He couldn't help but being taken aback. From that day on, when she had torn his world apart, he had never expected her to apologize. Sitting at home or driving around, drowning in memories, drowning in guilt, anger and grief, a part of him had traveled back to that moment when he had looked into her eyes, trying to fathom if there had been any indication of regret or remorse. Anything he hadn't been able to see that moment, blind with hate and fury. Automatically, as he had been trained to, he had postponed any thoughts or feelings of disbelief and shock, leaving them to deal with later, when the job was done, when he would have brought her down. And they had come to him, later. The doubts and the questions. Had she been playing him all along? Had everything he had thought they had just been a lie? Did she feel nothing while betraying him, nothing while she had killed his wife? He had wondered. Somewhere, deep inside. But he hadn't allowed these questions to surface. He had never tried to find the answers and he had never attempted to confront her cause he had known the sheer sight of her would bring out the worst in him. How many people died because of you, Jack?
And he had been right. Seeing her again had just been enough, and if he had really still been wondering, all of that had been wiped away the moment she had walked down that aisle. Her face completely emotionless, cold as the steel of her cuffs, revealing no sign of humanity. More space for his hatred, more room for his longing for revenge. And he knew he had made things more complicated than necessary, but he had never wondered again, never doubted again. To this day, until now, he wouldn't even have considered the possibility but now he might be facing the worst possible case: if he actually believed her. If there actually was some part left in her that was still human. If there was anything left of the person he had once trusted with his life. The woman he once... . For so long he had been sure there wasn't, that she had never existed at all.
Where did things start to go wrong, she wondered and couldn't even make up her mind which wrong she meant. That she had decided to change sides or that she hadn't been able to get rid off Jack. The latter one she had regretted a dozen times. She had made way too many mistakes. The first one to tell him Kim was dead. He would have gone after the Drazens anyway, without her exposing herself. The next one not to insist on someone else handling her. And asking Palmer to pardon her in advance with Jack listening, putting him into a position where he had nothing to lose - now that hadn't been her smartest move. But she had been so angry at him for everything he had put her through that day.
All the threats, the humiliations. She had given them Faheen, unconscious but alright and her attempt to run, even though that would have ruined her deal, had simply been an attempt to save her life. She had been surprised he hadn't shot her in that staircase, for a moment believing her gesture, the appeal to his morals or his heart had been the reason. But he had just been aware without her, there was no way to break Faheen. And then she had not had a choice but killing him. What are we gonna do, Jack? Testing his reaction. And he had ordered to put her back, together with the terrorist, the outlaw, making it perfectly clear where her place was. And when the plane had been about to crash, she had been hesitating. But Jack had spent all day to make sure she believed she was dead as soon as he wouldn't need her anymore and the crash would have been the chance he'd been waiting for all day. No, telling them would have been signing her death sentence and she wasn't stupid enough to sacrifice herself to a world that had never done anything for her. She hadn't wanted all those people to die but she wouldn't have given her life for them. Neither for Faheen, neither for Teri.
And Mexico had just been one big mistake. A disaster all the way and she knew she couldn't be grateful enough for having made it through that day alive. And that hadn't been due to but in spite of Jack.
A long list of mistakes and regrets but she knew it was fruitless to ponder over that and she had done her best not to. Which brought her back to the first possible wrong, but she had never seriously considered it as that. She was good enough in psychology to know that even if she had any such regrets, concerning her decision to screw everyone over, she would simply never have allowed herself to explore them. There were limits to how far the human mind was capable of questioning itself. Facing that everything one's existence was based on was wrong was just too much to take in without breaking. And she didn't want to break. Maybe she had not only turned his life into hell, maybe he was right and she had rushed headlong into disaster, making even her own existence miserable. But how disenchanted with her choice she could possibly get - there was still nothing about her old life that had been worth keeping.
There is no way I could ever redeem myself. After all these years she had said it out loud. But did that mean she wanted to? She shook her head to snap out of these thoughts. Even if a part of her was truly sorry for what she'd done, there was no way she could ever tell him, never had been. It didn't matter.
"I can't let you take me back," she whispered, trying to read in his eyes. "Not this time. If I go with you I'm as good as dead. And if you try to take me, I will resist."
Her frankness took him a bit by surprise. After all he was the one with the gun and she was in no position to declare her intentions so openly. But he knew she was right. Charged with murder and treason again and after everything that happened last time they had held her in custody, the death sentence was as good as granted. And even if not, she was obviously fearing the same outcome in case of a new imprisonment. What happened in those 18 months? What did they do to you?
He reconsidered, knowing this could well be the end of the way. How badly did he want her to pay. If he tried to arrest her and she would resist she would give him the reason he needed to kill her after all. Silent now, she was returning his gaze, her face displaying a kind of sad determination. If he could only figure her out. If he could only be sure this wasn't just another act. If he could only be sure she was lying again.
A few hours ago he had actually felt she was telling the truth. Offering nothing but stripped-down honesty, revealing all her weaknesses without holding back any more. But the moment was gone and now he was left with nothing but doubt again.
"I can't let you walk," he said, not showing his insecurity. As sick as it is a part of me is actually considering it...but no. "I can't let you walk."
She sighed soundlessly, the faintest trace of a sad smile on her face. She picked herself up the floor, wiping her hands over her thighs and he got up as well, the gun still not pointing at her. Still maintaining her dignity she took a slow step towards him. His gaze captured in her eyes he watched her approaching him. And suddenly he understood what had irritated him so much earlier, lying next to her.
She had always understood, reaching parts of him no one else, not even Teri, had had access to. That's why her betrayal had hurt so much and still did. Not only had the worst possible thing been done to him, it had been done by her of all people. She had known exactly what she had done to him. And to this day she was still the one closest to understand, to read his mind, to figure him out. But he could only glimpse into her mind, most of the time just taking guesses.
But earlier, watching her sleep, exploring her scarred skin, her words echoing in his mind, he had understood too. Her loneliness, her bitterness. Her disenchantment with the world, with her life. And a part of him had become aware that that was what they still shared or yet again. She had turned his life into hell, but she wasn't in a place any better.
Their isolation and their secrets had brought them together once and now, whether he liked it or not, they were reunited in the ruins and remains of their shattered existence. And all of her words coming back to him, he found himself in most of them. Whether he was a product of her work or not, whether she had turned him into the person he was now or he had always been it deep inside, they really weren't that different. Maybe they were as alike as they could ever be, as anyone could ever be. How many people died because of you, Jack?...isn't that what we always do?...I won't be sorry for wanting to live. Not for that...we will do whatever we have to and justify it in whatever way we can...there is no way for me to redeem myself...we are running out of time, Jack!...I know you still believe in all that crap, well, I don't. I stopped somewhere along the way...no matter how close you are with another person...are you gonna do it, Jack?...look where it got me. I don't even know what I'm doing here...we've been waiting for you to pull that trigger for the last seven years...I'm not justifying. I couldn't...what are we gonna do?...in the end, we are all alone, isolated in ourselves...would that be my one shot to make things right?
Looking into her eyes he wanted to say something, to tell her, even if just to let her know her weaknesses and her secrets were revealed to him, but she was right and he knew it. They were done talking. Some things could never be shared. There was just no way left for them to communicate. This night, the two of them being together again, had been a last desperate attempt, but it couldn't overcome the burnt grounds between them.
"Could you promise me to disappear for good?" he asked, knowing he was just out after a last justification.
She bent her head an idea to one side, taking another careful step. "No."
He knew she wouldn't, couldn't just sit around for the next fifty sixty years of her life, but a part of him wished she had even bothered to lie. Lifting his arm, he slowly pointed the gun at her, aiming at her chest, and she did a last step and stopped right in front of him, the barrel touching the skin right above her lungs. She took a deep breath. Let's get this over with.
"You gonna have to do it to my face."
She had picked the words for a reason and the flickering in his eyes told her he remembered exactly. And how could he not. He must have cursed himself a zillion times for not killing her for real on that hill. She saw it in his eyes, the way they gleamed with a million emotions, washing over him all at once. And for a second he was there again and it was all she needed.
She closed her eyes not to give herself away and hoping he might even close his too, gathering strength to pull the trigger and do it right this time.
She swung around, throwing her shoulder with all her weight against his arm, trying to control the gun and keeping its barrel pointed away from her while at the same time aiming for his head with her other arm. She took him by surprise and when her elbow landed at his temple she knew this would do it.