Part Four

"Jack's your what now?" asked Davis, staring.

"Brother," Carrie answered matter-of-factly. "Half-brother, actually. Same father."

"So you grew up together."

"Actually, we'd only met a few years ago. Estranged parents and all that. Long sob story, I'll spare you the details."

"How kind of you," he said darkly.

She ignored him. "Basically, I helped him out when he first started rewinding and thought he was going crazy. It kind of went on from there."

"Whoa, whoa," he said. "Just… hold on for a second. I'm still trying to process this. You and Jack… are related? But he planted you here, right?"

"Since you guys found out what he does and kicked him out of the morgue, he couldn't keep tabs on Tru anymore, so yeah," she shrugged. "I offered to help him out."

"And it doesn't bother you that he kills people?"

"He doesn't kill people, Davis," she sighed. "Why do you and Tru keep saying that? It's not true. He only tries to keep fate in balance, just like what Tru's trying to do right now with this whole double-rewind business! They're not arch-nemeses - "

"Well, actually," he said, frowning, "they kind of are."

"My point is," she said irritably. "It doesn't always have to be this way. Sometimes, like today, they seem to be working toward a common goal. Why does it have to be a fight all the time? Why can't we at least try to get along?"

"Uh, let's see." Sarcasm was thick in his tone. "Could it be because you betrayed us?"

"You have your loyalties, Davis," she said quietly. "And I have mine. He's my brother. I have to help him."

"But did you have to do it through me?" he shouted suddenly, clenching his fists. "God, all this time I actually thought there was something between us - "

"There is!" she exclaimed. "Davis, I never meant to hurt you - "

"Oh, god," he turned away with a short laugh. "If this were a movie, it would be right about now that you tell me you started with bad intentions but have now fallen in love with me."

There was a pause.

"Well," she said, her voice soft. "Yeah. Something like that."

He whirled around, his eyes wide. "I'm sorry, could you please… please repeat that?"

"You heard me," she looked away, colouring under his scrutiny.

"Yeah…" he said. "But, uh, I don't think my… my hearing is functioning properly."

"Stop it, Davis." Her voice was dropping below a whisper. "Just… stop it."

"What… uh… um," he swallowed. "What are you… uh… trying to say?"

"I like you," she said, lifting her head with a determined look in her eye. "Okay? I said it. I do like you. Independently of what's going on with Jack and Tru and the rest of… everything. I never meant to…" she shook her head, looking frustrated. "I mean, I - "

The sudden ringing of the telephone interrupted her words. He glanced at it, annoyed, and looked back at her.

"You should answer it," she said softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

With a sigh, he picked up the receiver. "City Morgue, Davis speaking."

"Davis." The voice on the other end was subdued. "It's Tru."

-----

"At least you know I had nothing to do with it this time," said Jack, striding into the examination room at the morgue, holding a couple of paper cups.

Tru was standing beside Jensen's body, which they'd brought in soon after his accident. Harrison had come with her; he was now sitting in the check-in room with Davis and Carrie, all three of them looking worriedly at her through the viewing window.

Earlier, she had brushed off all their consoling words, annoyed at the fact that, even then, they had looked understanding. She had heard Carrie whisper in denial to Davis as they quietly left the room, and she had felt like screaming. At the sound of Jack's voice she looked up, and, even though she was loath to admit it, felt a little comforted by the very fact of his presence. He, at least, knew exactly what she was going through. He had been there since the start.

"Second time in… what is it? Three days?" he asked, setting down his cups on the other examination table. "You still gonna deny that fate's trying to send you a message?"

"I've said it before and I'm gonna say it now," she replied wearily. "Don't even start."

"You know he won't ask, right?" His gaze seemed unusually gentle, despite the careless words.

She nodded, the movement so small as to be nearly imperceptible. "Doesn't mean the day won't rewind, though. We still haven't figured out what the hell is going on."

"And with that thought in mind, I brought more coffee," he smiled thinly, handing her one of the cups. "Cheers. Let's hope for another day."

"Thanks."

He seemed to catch the surprised element in her voice. "What?" he asked with a crooked grin. "I can't do something nice now and again? We're trying to achieve the same thing here, Tru; we're both trying to find out what fate wants us to do. Teamwork. Like Christmas Eve. You can't have forgotten already."

"No, I haven't forgotten," she said quietly.

He merely nodded and sipped his coffee in silence.

-----

Inside the check-in room, Davis leaned back against his desk and crossed his arms. "I guess we should contact Jensen's family," he said with an air of weariness, glancing at the others.

"Uh," said Harrison, looking askance at Carrie. "Tru said to hold off in case… you know. Davis," he beckoned the other man over, lowering his voice to a hiss, "why is she still here? You know she works for Jack. Tru told me on the way over."

"Jack, if you haven't noticed," said Davis heavily, "is out there right now making plans with Tru herself. I guess the normal rules don't apply in this round."

"I can hear what you're saying, you know," said Carrie from her seat over on the couch, with a slight smile.

Davis couldn't help smiling back sheepishly. Harrison, on the other hand, gave the woman a thoroughly mistrustful glance before he turned to look at Tru and Jack through the office window. "That's the other thing," he muttered. "When did they start being buddies? I knew something was up as soon as she brought him home for Christmas dinner. What the hell was that all about?"

"It's Day Three," said Carrie before Davis could answer. "They've talked before this. They're still trying to figure out what this whole thing means. What their purpose is. That's why they're working together: fate seems to want something specific this time, and neither of them knows what that is. But unless they figure it out, I think the day won't stop rewinding."

"This is just too weird," muttered Harrison, turning back to the window. Davis, on the other hand, glanced over his shoulder and couldn't help looking distinctly impressed. She gave him another small smile.

-----

"So… what now?" asked Jack, his eyes flickering over Tru's expression with a mixture of what seemed rue and understanding.

"I honestly don't know," she answered, chewing her lower lip. "I wish I did. I wish I knew what to do next. But… I guess we can only wait and see what's gonna trigger the next rewind."

"You're not even entertaining the notion that you might not rewind this time?"

"No," she said flatly, not looking at him.

"You covered his face," he said quietly, looking down at Jensen's body. "Does that mean you're not even hoping he'd ask now?"

"Don't read too much into it," she said warningly, though there was a hesitant glint in her eye that was affirmation enough. He caught the look and nodded slowly, as though to himself.

"Tru."

They both turned at the sound of Davis' voice. He had made his way out of the office, and was now leaning against the far wall, his arms crossed over his chest, looking uncharacteristically grave. Beside him stood Harrison and Carrie, wearing identical expressions of slight perplexity.

"Yeah," Tru said, with a quick glance at Jack that did not go unnoticed by any of them.

"I think…" Davis paused, with an imploring look. "Maybe you should head on home. You've had enough happen for one day. And it's New Year's Eve, after all…"

"Davis," she said incredulously, "I can't. Do you not realise what's happening? Something is gonna happen, and soon, too. I can't just pack up and leave!"

"Jensen is not going to ask," he said, his tone firm. "You know that, right? Tru, you've got to face facts here - "

"Could everyone, please," she demanded, "just get off my back? I don't need to hear this!"

"He's not going to ask!" exclaimed Davis. "When are you gonna realise that?"

"And when are you going to trust me enough to handle this myself?" she demanded. "I've done this, Davis; I've lived this day twice already. I'm finding things out, I'm piecing stuff together; what else do you want from me?"

"How about admitting that you made a mistake bringing him back?" his voice was getting louder. "Tru, why can't you just accept that he is supposed to die?"

"He's got a point, you know," said Jack softly from behind her.

"Don't you start," she whirled on him angrily. "Just… leave Jensen out of this, okay? Why can't anyone see that something else is at work here? Nothing's been resolved, what fate wanted hasn't been - "

"What if all that fate wanted was for Jensen to die?" Jack interrupted. "Maybe your father only asked the first time because he wasn't supposed to die with him!"

"I don't believe that, Jack," she said brusquely. "There's something bigger at stake here, I can feel it."

"Tru," Davis exclaimed, "you know I'll back you up on almost anything, but I really think Jack might have a point - "

"Great judgment call, Davis! Just like when you thought she," Tru pointed at Carrie, "was innocent?"

"Hey," Carrie held up both hands, looking startled. "Don't drag me into this."

"That's not the issue here!" Davis shouted. "Tru, this is about what you did with Jensen - "

"Great, don't worry about your own mistakes but just focus on mine. Please! Feel free! Go right ahead!"

"It wasn't really Davis's fault," Carrie interjected. "I mean, in all honesty, I did string him along - "

"Well," spat Tru, "aren't you little miss virtuous, owning up like that - "

"Hey," Jack interrupted. "Lay off her, it wasn't her idea to come work here; it was mine, okay?"

"Yeah, and that's another thing!" Tru exclaimed. "What the hell is the deal with you two, anyway? What, you just met up one day and decided, hey, let's all work for evil and gang up on Tru?"

"He's not working for evil - " said Carrie, sounding exasperated, while at the same time Davis offered, "They are brother and sister."

Tru's eyes widened as she swirled to face Jack. "She's your sister?"

"Half-sister," he replied. "To be more exact."

Harrison, who had been watching the increasingly heated exchange as though he were at a tennis doubles game, perked up. "Hey," he said. "Cool. Just like me and Tru. Except… not the half part."

The others glanced at him with varying degrees of irritation evident in their expressions, and he held up a hand, taking a step back. "I'm just saying. Geez."

"I just think you're making a mistake, Tru," said Davis slowly, with another disgruntled look at Harrison. "Maybe there is no higher purpose; maybe this whole thing is supposed to culminate in Jensen dying while leaving your father unscathed - "

"I don't accept that."

"It's not up to you whether to accept it or not!" he yelled at her, losing his composure. "You're not God, Tru! You don't get to control these things!"

"I know that," she said through gritted teeth. "But I also know this isn't finished; the day's gonna rewind again, I feel it in my bones. It's not over."

He shook his head disbelievingly. "Jesus, Tru…"

"Don't Jesus me!" she shouted. "Why can't you just believe me, Davis?"

"And why can't you just entertain the notion that maybe this is over?" he shouted back. "God, I feel like you don't have any respect for my opinions anymore - "

"That goes both ways, Davis," she said bitterly, shooting a dark look at Carrie. "Didn't I tell you specifically not to tell her? We had the conversation, and then what happens? You went straight out and - "

"Can I just point out," Jack interjected, "that it didn't really matter since she knew anyway - "

"That's not the point!" exclaimed Tru and Davis simultaneously, glaring. Jack raised an eyebrow, falling silent again.

"Tru," Davis said, his voice softening. "We used to be friends."

"We are friends."

"So why have you stopped listening to me?" he sighed, looking exasperated. "Doesn't my opinion matter to you anymore? God, sometimes I think you just… just think of me as your sidekick or something. And I'm… I'm not comfortable with that, okay? I don't want to be the guy that you lead around by the nose, and I don't want to be the guy who's just there for… comic relief or something. And if that's the way you see me…"

He threw up his hands as though he could no longer get the words out. Meeting her eyes for a moment, he shook his head sadly. They watched in silence as he turned and walked out.

"Davis," Carrie said after a moment, running after him. They could hear the rapid clicking of her heels disappearing down the corridor.

Jack and Harrison both looked at Tru, identical expressions of reproach on their faces.

"What?" she demanded crossly, turning back to Jensen's body. "He started it."

"Tru, listen to me," Harrison said. "I know you're stressed and all, but is this really a good time to ostracise Davis?"

"Actually, yeah," she said, crossing her arms. "I'm waiting for a rewind, remember?"

"If the day rewinds at all," Jack said. "And Tru - aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

"Davis died last night," he said slowly, as though he were explaining this to a small child. "Doesn't matter if it's potatoes or pieces of a jet engine falling on his head. He's not out of the woods yet. Are you really just gonna let him go like that? Are you willing to bet his life on your belief that today's going to rewind?"

She drew in a sharp breath before she narrowed her eyes at him. "Why are you, of all people, saying this? Isn't it your duty to keep him dead?"

He only shrugged. There was a pause, the hush pressing down between them, thick and austere with the weight of many things passed over in silence.

"I'm getting a little sick of my duties," he said finally, looking down.

She gazed at him, something flickering in the depths of her eyes. "Me too," she said quietly as she strode out the door.

Jack remained where he was, staring at the linoleum floor, his brows furrowed.

Harrison was still looking at him sceptically. "Dude," he said. "That was kinda decent of you. Which makes me worry you've just sent her into a trap or somethin'. I dunno what it is, but I don't like it."

"Think whatever you want, Harrison," said Jack wearily, and he did not look up.

With a puzzled frown Harrison, too, turned and left.

"I guess it's just you and me, buddy," Jack said to Jensen's body with a small smile. But as he stared up at the florescent lights, it was clear that the smile did not reach his melancholy eyes.

-----

"Davis, wait up," called Carrie as she ran out onto the sidewalk. "Wait!"

In the confusion between his finding out about Carrie and Jack, and Jensen's body being brought in, night had slowly fallen. The light from the street lamps pooled into misty yellow circles on the road, and they could hear the sound of faint raucous laughter coming from the bar around the corner. It was, after all, New Year's Eve.

He stopped on the side of the road, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Please, Carrie," he said. "I just need some time to… to think."

"She's just frustrated," she said softly. "She didn't mean to come off so harsh. Just give her a couple of hours, and if the day doesn't rewind, then she'll have to accept things as they are."

"Yeah," he said, looking at his feet. "I'm not really worried about that."

"Then…" she furrowed her brows. "Then what?"

"Look," he said, glancing back at her, his dark eyes virtually black in the night. "I'm just… I'm getting the feeling that… um," he paused again, looking frustrated.

"Davis," she said softly. "I know everything that happened today has been… well, overwhelming. But - "

"I just feel like I'm being used by everybody, you know?" he suddenly blurted out. "Tru used to come to me for advice, but now… now she's doing what she does, and she's great at it, and when she comes to me it seems like she's asking for advice but I don't think she's hearing me at all. And there's… there's the thing with you…"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, lowering her eyes.

"I'm not trying to…" he sighed. "I'm not trying to make you feel bad. It's just everything has sort of come up all at once and…" he shook his head, stepping off the curb. "I think I need a drink. I'll see you back at the morgue."

"Do you want me to…" she trailed off uncertainly.

He glanced back, looking as though he were debating the idea. But finally he shook his head with a small smile. "I… kind of need some alone time right now. You… you understand, right?"

She nodded slowly. With another apologetic look, he turned to go.

"Davis!" she exclaimed as a sleek red sports car careened out of a side street, deep bass notes shuddering from its open windows. The high beams carved a swathe of harsh light across the street, for a moment making their surroundings glare as brightly as any given day.

He turned sharply, just in time to see the car head straight toward him. For a moment he could see nothing but the dazzling flare of the headlights; then, he caught a split-second image of the terrified face behind the wheel. It was a boy, scarcely sixteen or seventeen by the looks of it, and frozen with fear at the sight of Davis stepping from the curb, the weight of momentum carrying them to what seemed an inevitable conclusion.

"DAVIS!"

With Carrie's anguished cry, he felt a violent shove in his side, sending him sprawling onto the road and out of harm's way. He struck the asphalt on all fours, and for a moment his vision swam out of focus as pain shot up his limbs, hot and jarring. Behind him, he heard the squealing of tires, a soft moan, and the unmistakable crunch of metal upon bone.

"Carrie," he whispered, even before he had turned around.

That was when Tru ran out of the building.

The car had screeched to a stop. Carrie was lying on the road several feet away, the impact having knocked her forward. Her eyes were open and staring, and a streak of blood ran from an open wound in her forehead.

Davis vaguely heard the sound of footsteps and car doors slamming as he crawled toward her. "Carrie," he murmured, "Carrie…"

There was the sound of confused and terrified mutterings beside him, an overwhelming chaos of oh my gods and I didn't see yous and I'm so sorrys, and Tru's anxious voice saying Davis, Davis over and over again, but none of it really registered. With the intuitive practice that came from years of medical training, he found that he had placed two fingers on the base of Carrie's neck before he even knew what he was doing.

There was no pulse.

-----

And now there were two bodies.

They were displayed under the white lights in the morgue, lined up side by side. Tru paced between them, her expression tense, now and again exchanging a look with Jack, who stood in a corner of the room, his arms crossed over his chest. It almost looked as though he were hugging himself, out of the cold or something else. His expression was unreadable, as it had been for the past two hours, through the jumbled commotion, the brief questionings as the police came and went, and the silence after.

The blinds to the check-in room were pulled, but she could see the soft glow of the desk lamp through it, the shadowy figures of Davis and Harrison on the couch. "Maybe I should…" she began, staring at Davis' silhouette. His head was bowed, and he seemed perfectly immobile.

"You can't do anything for him right now," Jack said quietly. He was half-immersed in shadow, the colour of his eyes deepening to cobalt. "The best thing for you to do is to stay here, and hope that she asks for your help."

She nodded, turning to look at Carrie. She had been cleaned up after she was brought in, the smears of blood wiped from her skin and the wounds cleansed; now she simply looked as though she were resting, her face a pale mask of calm beneath the harsh lights.

"How are you doing?" Tru suddenly asked, looking up at Jack. "She's your… she's your sister…"

His expression, or as much as she could see of it, was impassive. Under her scrutiny he turned away, and she could see his throat working, but he said nothing.

And it was the sight of him, more than anything else, that drove home for her the distinct possibility that this might just be the end of it. Jensen – gone. Carrie – gone. All her gestures, all her actions for the past three days… all coming to nothing. The shock of recognising this, the genuine possibility, felt like acid dissipating in her bloodstream. Suddenly she realised that there was a hot, liquid pressure building up behind her eyes. "Jack," she whispered, choking back a sob. "This can't be the end. It just… can't."

He turned back to her, and for a moment he remained in the shadows, his face a careful blank.

She could feel a tear slowly making its track down her cheek. And ordinarily it would have been humiliating, to even entertain the thought that he could see her in this state, this admission of weakness; but that time was not now. She felt the certainty of it as much as anything else she ever did. His expression was slowly changing, shifting from vacant to sorrowful to understanding. His gaze was steady, and the longer she held onto it the more comfort she seemed to draw. "Jack," she said again, her voice breaking. "I don't know what to do."

She watched him take one tentative step forward, emotion sweeping across his eyes like a storm breaking. And then he was suddenly before her and her face was pressed into his shoulder and she could feel the reassuring weight of his arms wrapped around her. She was crying, her body racking with silent sobs, her tears soaking into his shirt and he was murmuring shh into her ear as though he, Jack Harper, was the most logical person in the world to be doing this. "She'll ask," he whispered, his lips pressed to her hair. "It's not over; she will ask."

"How can you be sure?" she asked brokenly, clinging to him, pressing a hand over her mouth to stop further sobs from escaping.

"Because you were sure, earlier," he said, pulling back just a little so that he could look into her eyes. "And I trust that. I trust you to know."

She gazed at him, his concerned expression made indistinct through a fog of tears, and at that moment both of them seemed to realise what was happening, and they sprang apart.

They stared at each other, shock and uncertainty written all over their faces. She fought back a violent shiver; without his arms around her, the room suddenly felt freezing cold.

"Tru," he spoke first, licking his dry lips as though he wanted to say something profound, something that would tear down the walls between them once and for all; but he only fell silent, jerking his gaze away.

"I…" she began, still staring at him. "Jack…"

"Tru."

Automatically, she turned toward the sound of the voice.

Carrie's eyes had flown open, and they were staring straight at her.

"Help me."