Part Two
The morning of New Year's Eve was bright and clear, the winter sun lending light, if not heat, to the busy New York streets.
"Sorry to interrupt," Jack said briskly as he strode into Richard's office. "We have to talk."
"Do you ever knock?" the other man asked irritably, glancing up from his desk.
Jack merely shot him a dark look. The door slammed behind him.
-----
"Harrison?" Tru demanded into her phone as she walked quickly toward City Morgue. "It's Day Two."
"New Year's Eve?" his voice came over the line. "Geez. You'd think God, or whatever, would give you a break."
"Doesn't work that way," she said curtly. "They didn't give me Christmas Eve off, either. Get this: dad asked for my help last night."
"Oh my god - "
"I know. Listen, I need you to do something very important for me."
"Sure, anything."
"I need you to fix your balcony railing. That thing is a death trap…"
-----
There was a long pause after Jack finished relating the events of last night. Richard leaned back on his chair, looking deep in thought.
"So," he finally said. "Me… and this Jensen kid. You sure about that? You weren't there."
"Richard," Jack said with a degree of irritation. "You've done this job before. You know how it goes. Of course I'm sure. You died. More importantly, you asked for help from Tru."
"Yes, I'm aware of that," Richard said slowly, his gaze moving past Jack to the opposite wall.
"So I assume you're also aware of the interesting dilemma we've got going on?" Jack's voice was charged with agitation, a rare occurrence in itself.
"Yes."
Jack waited. When it became clear that Richard wasn't going to speak, he spread his hands. "Well?"
Richard blinked like he was snapping out of a dream. He turned his eyes back on Jack, opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something, and then closed it again.
"Am I supposed to do all that I can to keep you dead?" demanded Jack, crossing his arms over his chest. "Because I have to say, Richard, if that's the case here, the fates certainly have a twisted sense of humour."
"We do what we must," said Richard, sounding as though he were echoing some inaudible message whispered into his ear.
"What does that mean, Richard?" Jack exclaimed. "You are supposed to guide me through this kind of stuff!"
"If you haven't noticed already," Richard said. "It would be a gross conflict of interest if I get involved. You implied you don't want to be my disciple anymore, Jack; here's your chance. Your first big independent assignment."
"You've got to be joking," Jack said, staring.
Richard shrugged elegantly, his gaze shifting from the other man's face once more.
-----
"Davis, I need your help," Tru demanded as she opened the door to the check-in room.
He was on the phone, tossing her a smile over his shoulder as he continued talking. "Yeah… I would like to place an order please? Um, two servings of crab cakes, one large serving of the lobster puffs - "
"Uh, Davis," she said urgently.
"One second, Tru," he said, clamping a hand over the receiver. "I just need to - "
"Carrie's allergic to shellfish."
He stared at her for a moment, looking disgruntled. She spread her hands with a small smile.
"Hey," he said into the phone, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "I'll have to, uh, call you back."
"And just another thing," she said mischievously as he hung up. "Barry White? Not such a hot idea."
"I guess the date was a bust," he said sullenly. "Did she laugh in my face?"
"No," she sat down in the chair opposite the desk. "Actually, it sounded like she was really nice about it. Even after you spilled wine all over her and started groping her chest."
He looked so taken aback that she burst out laughing. "Not on purpose, Davis. Anyway, you know how that turns out, so you can plan the perfect date tonight. Call it a silver lining."
"And what's the cloud this time?" he sat back in his chair. "Who died?"
"My dad," she said, and after a pause added, "and Jensen. We were at Harrison's new place and the balcony railing broke."
"They both died at the same time?"
She nodded. He watched her, his expression simultaneously inquisitive and solemn, "Did they both ask for help?"
There was a pause. "I think you know the answer," she said quietly, biting her lip.
"Jensen didn't ask, again," he said, his voice equally soft.
"He might have," she said defensively. "If I had more time."
"Tru," he sighed, sounding a little exasperated. "He didn't ask last time, either."
"So what am I supposed to do?" she demanded. "Not save him? That's not an option, Davis."
"I'm just saying that, maybe," he said carefully, "whatever gave you your power has a reason why it didn't make Jensen ask for your help."
"God, you're starting to sound like Jack," she replied crossly.
"Believe it or not, I'm aware of that," he said, shaking his head. "It's just…"
"It's just what, Davis?"
He shrugged, looking ill at ease. She crossed her arms and stared at him expectantly. He shrugged again, clearing his throat. "Look," he said, "maybe… as much as it pains me to say it, maybe Jack is right on this one. Maybe you're not supposed to meddle with fate when they don't ask. That's all I'm saying."
"Well, I don't buy that," she set her jaw.
"It's not supposed to work this way," he said, his voice low. "You're abusing your power."
"You know what?" she exclaimed. "I really don't give a damn how things are supposed to work right now! No one gave me an instruction manual! If you're not gonna help me, Davis, then you'd better get out of my way."
"I'm on your side, Tru," he said softly, looking taken aback at her sudden outburst.
"I gotta go," she said coldly as she stood up. "I'm meeting Jensen for brunch and I'm keeping an eye on him today. Call me if anything comes up, okay?"
"Do you want me to check on your dad?" he asked, leaning forward as she headed for the door.
"I'll get Harrison to do it," she said curtly, still stung by his comments. "Good luck with your date tonight."
"Tru," he said, his tone coloured by exasperation, but she had already walked out, leaving the glass door to swing shut behind her.
-----
"You're right," said the handyman who'd come out to inspect Harrison's balcony. "See the bars down here on the railing? All rusted away. A decent push would make the whole thing give. It's an accident waiting to happen."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Harrison said. "But you can fix it, yeah?"
The handyman nodded. "It's gonna cost ya, though. First I have to take this piece of crap out, and then I suppose you'll want the same type railing put back in?"
"I guess," said Harrison, a little dubiously. "Uh… so how much is this gonna cost?"
The handyman nudged the railing with his toe. "Can't say for sure yet. But… ball park figure, I'd say about between seven hundred and a thousand."
"Huh," Harrison said.
-----
"No problem," said Tru into her phone as she walked toward the caf on campus. "You told me about the track results yesterday. Apparently Lucky Nine's a shoo-in for race four, but bet on Four Leaf Clover, okay? It's a long shot but it wins. You got that? Get the money, and get the railing fixed. That's all I ask."
She paused for a moment, listening with a smile. "All right," she said. "Call me if anything comes up. Bye."
"Tru! Over here!"
Turning, she saw Jensen waving from his seat in the café. "Hey," she said as she strode over. "How are you?"
"Decent," he laughed, pulling a chair out for her. "And you?"
"Can't complain," she said as she leaned in for a quick kiss. "Any plans today?"
"There's no class, no work, and there's you," he grinned. "That's pretty much all I ask."
"Easy to please," she smiled, taking his hand. "I like that in a man."
"We'll have to drop by the clinic, though," he said. "Avery and Tyler - "
"Are pulling extra shifts, I know," she finished for him. Upon catching his puzzled look she added quickly, "Avery told me. We can swing by to invite them to Harrison's party."
"Cool," he said, getting out his chair. "Let's order. I'm starv – ow!"
"Are you okay?" she asked, jumping to her feet.
"Yeah, fine," he said quizzically, pressing a hand to his right calf. "Ow. Um… my leg just seized up for a second."
"Let me see," she said, pushing him back into his seat.
"It's no big deal, Tru," he said, laughing in embarrassment as she pressed a hand to the spot, trying to feel for muscle tension. "Seriously. I dunno what happened. It just hurt for a second."
"Has it ever happened before?" she asked anxiously.
He shook his head. "You know what's weird though? It felt like an old injury. My mind automatically went 'oh, not again', even though this never happened before. Weird, huh? I've been getting a lot of déjà-vu moments lately." He chuckled softly. "Maybe it's a glitch in the Matrix."
Her hand was still pressed to his leg when she recalled, with a jolt, the image of him the night before, sprawled on the dark ground. The pool of blood, the faint light splintering from the stars above, the steel rod sticking out of his right calf.
She jerked her hand away from the spot. "Oh," she said weakly.
"Are you okay?" he looked at her, frowning.
"Yeah," she swallowed, forcing a smile. "I'm fine."
-----
"Morning," said Carrie at the door to Davis' office. "Hard at work, as usual?"
"Oh, you know," he turned from the computer with a self-conscious grin. "I like to, uh, work…"
She laughed at his sheepish expression after he'd made the remark. "Looking forward to our date tonight?"
"Definitely," he beamed up at her. A pause, and he asked tentatively, "And you?"
She nodded. "Great," he said, looking pleased. "Hey," he said, "you're allergic to shellfish, aren't you?"
"That's right," she smiled in surprise. "How did you know?"
"Tru told me," he scratched his beard. "It's one of her rewind days. Apparently last night I served lobster puffs on our date and… it didn't go so well."
"She rewound?" she seemed interested in the prospect. "Do you know who died?"
"Her father, actually," he replied, fidgeting. "She's got it under control. Hey… I guess I'm not supposed to talk… I mean, you won't tell her that you know, right?"
"Of course not," she looked earnestly at him. "I wouldn't do that."
"Good," he looked relieved. "Not that… uh, not that I thought you would, but… I haven't had a chance to tell her that you know, so - "
"It's fine, Davis," she held up a hand, grinning. "Listen, I gotta go up to my office and catch up on some paperwork. I'll see you later, okay?"
"Sure. Bye. I mean, I'll see you later, so not, like, goodbye; but... um, I'll..."
"See you later, Davis." As she walked away he could hear her good-natured laughter echoing down the hall.
-----
"Hey guys!" Avery called with a smile as Tru and Jensen walked in the door. "What's up?"
"Just dropping by to see my favourite doctor in the clinic," Tru grinned, giving the other girl a hug. "Happy New Year, guys."
"Watch the sweet talk," Jensen chuckled. "I might get jealous."
"You will never have what Tru and I have," Avery said with a quirk of the brow. "Ours is a fated love."
"If I can't have it," he glanced at Tyler. "Can I at least watch this fated love?"
"Men," Avery rolled her eyes as Jensen and Tyler high-fived each other. Tru only smiled weakly.
"Come on," Jensen laughed. "You walked right into that one… ow!"
"What's wrong?" demanded Avery, rushing out from behind the counter.
"It just did it again," he said, clutching his right calf. "Okay… this is starting to get weird…"
"What did what again?" asked Avery as she bent down to examine his leg. "Did you pull a muscle?"
"More a stabbing sort of pain, actually," he said, glancing at the others sheepishly. "It's fine, it's gone now."
"Since you're here," she said anxiously, "why don't you get checked up? I'm on a break, we can use one of the spare exam rooms."
"No, seriously," he protested, "I'm fine."
"Tru," Avery glanced at the other girl, "what do you think?"
"Uh, yeah," said Tru, feeling an irrational cold dread bubbling up in her chest. "She's right, Jensen; you should get it checked out. It'll only take a minute."
"Two women fawning over you, man," deadpanned Tyler. "I wouldn't waste the opportunity if I were you."
"All right, all right," Jensen acquiesced, laughing. "But it's nothing, I swear..."
-----
When Carrie went up to her office, she gasped and nearly dropped her cup of coffee when she found Jack reclining idly on her patient couch. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, closing the door behind her. "Shouldn't you be out trying to put Richard Davies' death on track or something?"
"I see Davis told you about the rewind," he said, raising an eyebrow.
"And thanks for keeping me in the loop, by the way," she replied a little crossly as she sat down at her desk. "Do you need help?"
"Only with a moral dilemma."
"Oh, right," she said, swinging around to meet his eyes. "Richard, of course, is the guy designated to help you with your job. And if you're gonna put his death on track… One, it's not too savoury a thought for you; and two, it's entirely possible that he's not gonna like that prospect very much, either. Did you tell him he died yesterday? I wouldn't have said anything if I were you."
"You're good, Carrie." His voice carried an element of surprised admiration.
She looked at him. "Don't ever underestimate my intelligence, Jack."
He inclined his head with a small smile. "Anyway, it's too late for that. I kinda panicked when I woke up, and I told him everything."
"And?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"He said nothing. He told me to figure this out on my own."
"Quite the stoic, isn't he?"
"Or," he glanced at her, "quite the poker face."
"You think he'll practice what he preaches?"
"Willingly go to his death when he knows about it? Only saints do that, Carrie; and if there's one thing I know, Richard Davies is no saint."
"Good point. So… what now?"
He didn't answer, turning instead to look out the window. The early afternoon sunlight had turned from silver to pale gold, bringing a hint of green to his eyes.
"I don't know," he finally admitted, not looking in her direction. "I really don't know."
-----
"Well, everything seems fine," said Avery. "No muscle strain, no cuts and bruises." Watching Jensen roll his pants leg down, she furrowed her brows. "You said it was like a stabbing sort of pain?"
"Yeah, like something's been rammed through it," he said. "But just for a second. I know it sounds weird."
"What do you think, Tru?" Avery glanced at the brunette, who stood to one side of the examination bed, her brows furrowed and evidently deep in thought.
Tru looked up, and as their eyes met, Avery thought she saw a flicker of something strange in the other girl's gaze. For an instant it almost seemed like fear, or foreboding…
"I have no idea," Tru said, turning toward Jensen with a concerned expression.
Avery shook her head lightly; she must have been seeing things. "Pick up a prescription of painkillers if you want," she said. "But my guess is that it's just some involuntary muscle spasm."
"I told you," he spread his hands.
She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Give it a few more days and…"
"Come back if the pain persists, yada yada," he finished for her with a grin. "I know the drill. Thanks."
"Take care of yourself," she said. "You'll look after him, won't you, Tru?"
"Of course," Tru said, planting a kiss on Jensen's forehead. He patted her on the arm with a carefree smile and got up to go.
But Avery saw the look on Tru's face, the overwhelming melancholy, and could not help wondering what the other girl knew that Jensen did not.
-----
"Congratulations," said the girl at the ticketing desk as she counted out Harrison's winnings. "Four Leaf Clover, huh? Lucky hunch."
"You bet," he grinned as he took his prize money in cash. "Secure balcony," he said as he strolled off, planting a kiss on the wad of notes as he went. "Here we come…"
-----
Jack was waiting for Tru when she and Jensen came out of the clinic. "Hey!" he exclaimed, feigning surprise. "Fancy seeing you two here!"
"What are you doing here?" she demanded, casting a quick glance at Jensen, who looked a little disgruntled at the sight of the other man. "Hey Jack," he said unenthusiastically.
"I need to talk to you, Tru," Jack said sweetly. "It's kinda urgent."
"I'll be over there," Jensen said, a hint of resignation to his voice as he pointed to a bench on the sidewalk.
"I'll just be one second," she promised him as she followed Jack to the side of the building. "What are you doing?" she hissed, folding her arms. "How did you know I was here?"
"Nice to see you again, too," he looked amused.
She merely glowered. Shaking his head, he shrugged. "I figured you'd be watching Jensen's ass all day. Figuratively and, well," he glanced at the other man, who had sat down on the bench, looking bored, "literally."
She chose to ignore the comment. "Still doesn't explain why you're here. Shouldn't you be out ruining my plans?"
"Which is all very well if you had any plans." He had a habit of tilting his head back slightly and looking at her through half-lowered lids. It gave him an air of knowing scrutiny. "But as far as I can tell, Tru, you're just sitting back on this one. What, boyfriend and father not important enough for you to make an effort?"
"Is that all you came here to do?" she demanded. "To mock the fact that I'm not making some big, intricate plan? Jack, that's pathetic, even for you."
"Oh," he shrugged again, his expression languid. "That's not all I plan to do."
She waited, but he merely smiled at her in the manner that she had grown accustomed to: half knowing, half indulgent, as though she were nothing but a little kid with countless antics up her sleeve. "What?" she demanded crossly. "It was a freak accident; the balcony's been fixed, things won't go the same way this time."
He looked at her, his eyes glittering strangely in the golden afternoon light. "How can you be sure?"
She stared back into that inscrutable gaze, narrowing her eyes. He always knew how to burrow under her skin, she'll give him that; he knew exactly how to needle her along until she felt ready to scream. In some ways, he seemed to know more about her calling than she ever did herself, and at that, she could feel a surge of resentment welling up within. "What do you mean?" she asked, and as she spoke those words she felt a new flood of anger, at him and also at herself, for having to expose this uncertainty.
He smiled. There was a trace of triumph to it. "You're fighting a losing battle, Tru. At least where Jensen's involved. You know he wasn't supposed to be brought back. Death has him marked; it's not gonna give him up that easily."
"You're wrong," she said, her mind reeling.
"Am I? Do you really believe that railing breaking was a 'freak accident', as you called it? These things happen for a reason."
"What are you implying?"
"I'm not implying anything. I'm saying very plainly that the railing broke last night because it was Jensen's time to die. That's why he didn't ask you to save him. Your calling, as much as you would like to believe otherwise, does not extend to those who don't ask."
"Yeah, well," she said, forcing out a victorious smile, even though she felt nothing like it on the inside. "Someone else asked, didn't they? And Jensen is still alive, so much the better."
"For now," he said. His voice had grown low and chilling.
She stared at him, fighting an urge to bite down on her lip.
"How many times will you have to save him before you understand, Tru?" he asked quietly, leaning in, his eyes burning into hers like twin points of blue-green flame. "He's walking in this world but he doesn't belong in it. He belongs on the other side. He's supposed to be dead, and more than once, too. Even if he doesn't comprehend it, his body knows the way things are supposed to be, and it remembers."
She drew in a sharp breath, and he pulled back, a hint of satisfaction emerging in his gaze. "That's why I knew I could find you here," he said, and the familiar smile is back again, the one that seemed to speak simultaneously of disdain and calm irony. "His body is recalling the injuries that had been done to it, even the ones that aren't supposed to be there. Am I right?"
"That's not true," she said, hardly aware of the fact that she was shaking. "You're really pissing me off, Jack. You better get out of my sight."
"I'm just saying this can't last," he said, and all of a sudden his eyes lost their usual sardonic sparkle, as though a light behind them had gone out. "His own fate will carry him to the inevitable conclusion. You violated a rule in bringing him back the first time, Tru. He'll have to pay for it sooner or later."
"And you?" she asked quietly. "When are you going to pay for killing Luc? If we both violated rules, it was you who did it first."
For a moment he didn't speak. Their gazes were held, though, each calculating, each with its own set of convictions and doubts. A freezing wind travelled across the grounds and stirred her hair; the sunlight seemed to grow colder and more brilliant, becoming almost metallic in texture.
It was him who broke the eye contact. "I guess we all have our own crosses to bear," he said, not looking back as he turned and walked away.
She took a few moments to compose her thoughts, staring at his retreating figure, before she returned to Jensen. When she did, she found him contemplating the sky with a furrow in his brow. "I never really noticed how blue it is," he said as she sat down beside him. "Just another thing that you notice, I guess, when you take the time to. It's amazing to think how alone we are in the universe, and how far it stretches out. It really makes you feel insignificant, don't you think?"
"Yeah, I guess," she answered softly.
"What did Jack want?"
She shrugged. "Just… stuff."
He glanced at her. "Why do I get the feeling that you aren't telling me the whole story about you and him?"
"What?" she laughed weakly. "Oh… you know. We used to work together. That's about it."
"And you're friends?"
"I wouldn't really call him a friend… what's this about, Jensen? Why are you so interested in Jack all of a sudden?"
He shrugged and looked up again. She waited, but no answer came.
-----
"And…" Davis said as he walked back into the lounge, holding a large serving platter. "Dinner is served."
Carrie was standing by the stereo, a CD case in her hand. "Sarah McLachlan?" she asked, a hint of teasing to her voice. "Never figured you for the type, Davis."
"Do you like her?" he asked anxiously, setting the platter on the table. "It was Tru's suggestion. I'm not so good with the selection of music and the… stuff."
"I love it," she said softly, smiling at him as she walked forward and surveyed the platter. "Oh, wow. This looks great!"
"It's Moroccan. Decided to forgo the shellfish, obviously."
"Looks fabulous," she said. "What's that one?"
"I think... some sort of potato... originally?" he said, poking the dish cautiously.
She grinned. "You going to try it?"
"I'm always up for culinary challenges," he chuckled, taking a bite of the dish before he made a face.
"Not good?" she asked, laughing as he hastily took a large gulp of water.
"We'll probably stay away from that one," he muttered. But he couldn't help smiling as their eyes met.
-----
Jack paused in front of Richard's office door before he went in, glancing out the window at the night sky. Through the door that stood ajar, he could hear Richard's voice as the older man talked on the phone. "Harrison?" he was saying. "I'm sorry but I'm not going to be able to make it to your party… yes, I'm terribly sorry about that. But a new case has just come up and…"
He fell silent for a few moments, and Jack, outside the door, couldn't help a small, wry smile.
"Yes, I'm aware of that, but there's just too much paperwork to get through," Richard said. "Have fun without me, okay? I'll see you back at work after the New Year break… all right, son. Goodbye."
Jack heard the click of the phone as Richard hung up. "Not going to risk your life on Harrison having fixed that balcony, then?" he asked, striding into the room.
Richard looked up. "Evidently not."
Jack nodded. "I've been thinking."
"Oh yeah?" Richard leaned back on his chair. "What about?"
"About the fact that you left me cold on this mission," Jack replied. "About the fact that, despite knowing everything I've told you, you seem to have left the choice in my hands. That's not like you, Richard."
"Perhaps people can surprise you," said the other man. His eyes seemed almost black by the light of the single lamp in the corner of the room.
"Even so," Jack said. "It's not your style, and we both know it."
Richard inclined his head slightly, looking as though he wasn't going to challenge the point. "So the question is," he said. "What are you going to do now, Jack?"
"You taught me everything I know," Jack said, a little sadly.
"Jack," Richard said, looking away. "I have a family. I have a wife. This is going to be…" he sighed. "I don't know what will happen to Jordan and the kids. I can't…"
Jack stared at him. "I know."
"I can't let you do this," said Richard, still not looking at him.
Jack swallowed. "It's my job, Richard."
"I know," Richard said, and lifted his arm.
He was holding a pistol, and he pointed it straight at Jack's head.
-----
"Hey!" Harrison said as he opened the door, letting Tru and Jensen through. "Come in, come in! Check out my new pad. Pretty good, huh?" In an undertone he added to Tru, "Balcony's all fixed, as per requested."
"Thanks, Harry," she said with relief, kissing him on the cheek. "I meant to bring wine, but forgot in all the excitement. Forgive me?"
"Believe me," he said, "family letting me down is kinda a recurring theme today. Dad isn't coming."
"That's weird," she furrowed her brows. But before she could say anything else the doorbell rang again, and he hurried off to greet Avery and Tyler, the latter setting off a streamer with a loud pop. Waving to her friends with a forced smile, she grabbed Harrison by the arm the first chance she got and dragged him to one side. "This doesn't make sense," she hissed. "He should be here. He was here yesterday."
"So?"
"So, he should be here today! I was counting on it! Oh my god, what if Jack got to him first?" she pressed a hand over her mouth as though she were going to be sick. "God… I was so worried about saving Jensen that I just assumed dad would be okay once the balcony's fixed…"
"Tru, calm down. He just called and said he had paperwork, he's still in the office; he didn't mention anything about Jack."
"But Jack could be on his way there right now!" she exclaimed, striding toward the door. "I've got to get to dad before he does…"
Jensen, Avery and Tyler, who were standing around the snack table, looked up at the sound of her anxious voice. "What's wrong, Tru?" asked Avery.
"I… I gotta go," Tru said quickly, grabbing her coat. "You guys stay here, okay? Harrison, keep an eye on Jen… everyone." She looked significantly at him. "I'll be back soon."
Her cell phone rang, however, before she'd even made it out the door. "Yeah?" she demanded into it as she flew down the stairs, hoping desperately that it would not be Jordan or some equally distraught voice, telling her that she was too late, and that her father had died as a result of her oversight.
"T.. Tru? Is that you?"
The voice was unfamiliar, and it took her several moments to place it. When she did, however, she furrowed her brows. "Carrie?"
"Yeah, it's… it's me." The voice on the other end sounded as though it was bordering on hysterical. "God, Tru, I… I didn't know who else to call… the ambulance is on its way but… but - "
"Whoa, hold on, back up," Tru demanded, stopping dead in the stairwell. "What's going on?"
"It's Davis," Carrie sobbed, "he just fainted for no reason and I couldn't wake him… he's not breathing…"
-----
"You gonna shoot me with that thing, Richard?" asked Jack, staring at the gun with a curious expression.
"I wish it could be otherwise," said Richard, keeping his aim as he got out from behind the desk. "But if it came down to killing you or be killed, then I guess it doesn't take a genius to figure out which one I'd rather have happen."
"After everything you told me," said Jack, his voice very quiet. "After everything you said about restoring the balance to fate, after - "
"I know what I said, Jack," Richard interrupted, shadows flitting across his face. "But I guess the view is different from where I currently stand."
Jack looked at him, and said nothing.
"I'm a defence attorney, as you well know," said Richard, careful not to let his aim falter. "And like all good defence attorneys I'm no stranger to bargaining. If you would give me your word, Jack, then it doesn't need to end this way."
"You want me to overlook the rules today?" Jack asked, his eyes clouding over.
"It'll be no different to a day when you lose out to my daughter," Richard said evenly. "What's one more in the grand scheme of things?"
"The rules aren't there for you to bend to suit yourself, Richard; you should know that better than anyone."
"Believe me, I see the irony," Richard said, his tone unmoved. "Just give me your word, Jack. What is it to you? It's just a job, after all. Isn't it what you said?"
Jack was silent for a moment, looking out at the night outside, the glittering skyline of New York city spreading out far and wide beneath their feet. In the faint lamplight his eyes looked very blue.
"You know what I decided before I walked in that door, Richard?"
"Don't drag this out, Jack."
"I decided," Jack continued, ignoring the other man, "I decided that if you were going to stay true to all the things you taught me, then… I'd just turn and walk away. I'll reap whatever consequences that come for it. I can handle that responsibility. The time with Megan, the girl who asked for my help… it… it nearly killed me. I wasn't about to do that again."
"Sorry to disappoint you," Richard said quietly. "But you should have known that self-preservation comes first and foremost. And that's what surprises me. Why are you still hesitating? All I need is for you to give a nod, and things can go back to as they were."
"No," Jack said, his voice soft as he turned and looked into Richard's eyes. "Things can't go back to the way they were, Richard. Not after this."
"I am sorry, you know," said Richard, his voice shaded with vague regret. "I wish it didn't have be this way."
"Me too," said Jack. But before he could say anything else, he was suddenly gripped with a familiar cold feeling running down his body, like his nerves were folding in on themselves, as though some part of him were dying. Time seemed to slow as the scene in front of him faded into monochrome: Richard, the office, the gun. His eyes widened as he felt the effervescent jerk behind his stomach, and images began to race across his retinas…
"Oh wow, this looks great!" said Carrie, looking down at a platter full of sumptuous, exotic food. There was a kiss, a smile, the sound of a woman singing a lilting melody in the background. Then they were moving toward the bedroom, Carrie's lips were on his, she was smiling at him, shyly, and then he was on the floor and there was a blinding pain spreading from his stomach and then…
"Davis," Jack exclaimed as he sat up straight in his bed. He looked toward the window, the morning sunlight pouring through like sheets of liquid crystal, and then at the calendar on the bedside table.
December 31st.
Again.