Part Five
"What the hell just happened?" Tru murmured as she awoke, running a hand over her face as she thought back to what had transpired only moments earlier. She could still feel the weight of Jack's arms around her, the unbidden sense of protection. Unexpectedly, she could feel a flood of warmth spreading across her cheeks, and even more unexpectedly she felt a surge of relief that he was not here to witness it.
Shaking her head, she sat up and looked out the window. Silver sunlight again filled the ice-blue sky, and she could hear the welcome sound of congested morning traffic in the street below. She reached for the phone, meaning to call Jack, but hesitated as her fingers touched the cool metal. Biting her lower lip, she glanced out the window again, trying to will away the sense of brief weightlessness, the memory of his bewildering embrace.
Before she could do anything else, however, the phone rang, startling her so much that she dropped it on her lap, and she spent two or three rings fumbling before she could finally flip it open. One glance at the caller display sent a jolt of adrenaline through her bloodstream and she took a deep breath, hitting the speak button. "Jack?"
"Yeah, it's me. Day Four. Let's get this show on the road."
"Meet me at the morgue in half an hour," she said. "And we'll regroup."
"Sounds good." He hung up without further ado. She looked down at the phone for a moment, slightly thrown, but then she shook her head resolutely and slid out of bed. It was a new day, and Jensen still needed saving.
-----
"Jensen?" Tru said into her phone as she jogged toward City Morgue. "Hey. Just checking if we're still on for brunch? … Great. I'll see you at the campus café in half an hour."
She dodged a group of pedestrians and turned the corner, trying to keep her eyes on the road while she hit Harrison on speed dial. "Hey, it's me."
"Hey sis," came his cheerful voice over the line. "What's up?"
"Drop everything today," she said urgently. "No time to explain. You need to fix your balcony railing."
"Rewind day?" he asked knowingly.
"Third time in a row," she sighed, stifling a yawn. "Everyone dies, Jensen's a walking time bomb, I'm so desperate I'm pumping Jack for information… just fix the goddamn railing, okay? I'll explain everything later. Oh, and Harrison? It's gonna set you back about a thousand dollars, so I want you to go to the tracks and bet on the noon race, number four, on a horse called Four Leaf Clover. You got that?"
"Will do. And Tru?"
"Yeah?"
"You ever think about doin' this on a regular occasion? You know, supplementing your brother's income with a little somethin' extra?"
"Not a good time, Harrison," she panted as she ran into the morgue building. "Just do what I tell you, and I'll explain everything later, I promise."
As she looked down to put the phone back in her pocket, she ran straight into Jack at the elevators. "Oh!" she exclaimed as they collided, "I'm sorry…"
"You all right?" he asked, grinning.
"Yeah, fine," she muttered, hastily looking away and punching the elevator down button. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see him watching her, the corner of his lips tugging upward in an expression of knowing amusement.
-----
"Morning," said Carrie at the door to Davis' office. "Hard at work, as usual?"
"Oh, you know," he turned around. "I like to, uh, work…"
There was an awkward beat, and he reddened. She laughed. "Looking forward to our date tonight?"
"Definitely. And you?"
She smiled back, nodding. Looking pleased, he was just about to say something else when footsteps thundered down the hall and, a moment later, Jack and Tru burst in the door side by side.
"Tru? Jack?" Davis exclaimed, jumping to his feet. Behind him, Carrie too looked for a moment as though she were going to speak, but she seemed to hold her tongue just on time.
"Rewind day, no time to explain," said Tru to Davis.
"Tru knows that you know about her," said Jack to Carrie.
"And don't think I'm not still mad at you about that," said Tru to Davis.
"So there's no point in hiding it anymore," said Jack to Carrie.
"Me and Jack are working together today," said Tru.
"Multiple rewinds, trying to figure out what fate wants," said Jack.
"Jack planted Carrie here to find out what I've been doing," said Tru.
"She's my sister and she's been helping me," said Jack.
"But don't get too angry because it turns out she actually does like you…"
"Since she died trying to save you…"
"Actually, you both died…"
"On separate rewinds…"
"Don't eat potatoes…"
"Don't step in front of cars…"
"In fact, just… stay here and… don't move, either of you," said Tru. "We gotta go. Explain later."
And with that, she and Jack turned and ran out again. Davis and Carrie could hear their footsteps echoing down the hall.
They turned to look at each other, stunned into speechlessness.
-----
"So what do we know?" asked Tru as she and Jack rode the elevator back up.
"Well, it seems like you were right, something bigger is at stake. Otherwise there would've been no point in this rewind."
"I told you so."
"Hey, I told you I believed you, didn't I?"
She glanced at him sharply as she recalled the events just prior to the rewind. He was wearing that knowing smile again. She could feel herself blushing once more, and strode forward hurriedly when the elevator doors opened. He followed, still smiling. "I guess you'll be checking on Jensen."
"Yeah, that's right."
There was an awkward silence, and she risked sneaking a peek in his direction. The grin had slipped off his face, and he seemed deep in thought. "You're fixing that balcony, aren't you?" he asked after a pause.
"Yeah, Harrison's on it."
"And we just told Carrie and Davis to stay put, so they shouldn't be in any immediate danger…"
"Which leaves accident-prone Jensen," she checked her watch. "And speaking of him, I better go. Call me if anything happens, all right? Let's try to figure this thing out today. I'm getting sick of the rewinds. Plus," she yawned. "How long has it been? Fifty, sixty hours? I need to get some sleep."
"Definitely not debating that point," he smiled, watching her turn and run off in the direction of the university. "I'll just… stay here, then."
She had taken only a few steps before she stopped and turned back. "Listen," she said slowly. "Maybe… maybe it'd be easier if we just stick together today."
"My thoughts exactly," he grinned, sauntering forward as though this had been his plan all along.
"But I swear," she narrowed her eyes, "if you try any funny business…"
"Funny business, Tru?" he raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
"You do, too," she whacked him on the arm as they started walking again. "I'm serious, okay? If you try to 'put his death back on track' or whatever, this partnership is over."
"And just when we're getting to be such good friends."
She sneaked another pondering glance at him, her expression softening. But before she could say anything else, he added, "I don't need to do anything. You know he's gonna die anyway."
She shot him an extremely dirty look, which only made him laugh out loud. The morning light, showering through trees on the sidewalk, scattered dappled silver over them as they walked off, shoulder to shoulder.
-----
"So," said Davis, fidgeting as he swivelled around in his computer chair.
"So," Carrie echoed from her seat on the couch. They shared a brief, uncomfortable look before glancing away again.
"You're… you've been working for Jack?" he finally murmured. "You're his sister?"
"Half-sister, actually. And… yeah."
"So… so all the dates and stuff… you and me… that was all… acting?"
"You heard what they said," she said, a blush beginning to crawl up her cheek. "I… it's not that simple anymore."
He was silent for a long moment. Meanwhile, she looked around the room, at anywhere but him, nibbling nervously on her lower lip.
"You…" he finally said, swallowing. "You died trying to save me?"
She looked taken aback. "Apparently."
"Wow," he said softly. "That… is… I mean… wow."
"I know it sounds like a bad romantic comedy or something," she said, gazing down at her hands. "But the truth is that… yeah, well, I did end up having…" the tips of her ears grew red, "… feelings… for you."
He swallowed again. "Since when?"
She shrugged uncomfortably. "Well, last week, I guess. When you showed up after the guy who was supposed to be Santa couldn't… you know. That… that was really sweet, Davis. The presents…"
"Oh god," he pressed a hand to his forehead. "That reminds me, I still have to business expense that bone saw."
She couldn't help a small chuckle. He glanced at her, looking surprised. "Did I just make a joke?"
"I think so," she said, getting to her feet.
"What… what are you doing?" he asked, looking alarmed as he watched her approach.
She didn't answer as she leaned over and kissed him softly.
"Um," he said as she pulled back, blinking. "Um… wow. Um, thank you."
She couldn't help a grin at that. "You're welcome?"
He shook his head, looking distinctly embarrassed. "I didn't mean… um, I didn't mean to thank you, uh… I mean, it was good, but, not like the other time wasn't good. I mean, it was more than good. It was…"
"Davis," she placed a hand on his arm, smiling. "It's okay."
"I talk too much," he mumbled, not meeting her eyes. "I know. I get nervous and then I start talking and…"
"I know," she said softly. "I like it. It's cute."
Seeing a hint of disbelief cross his eyes when he glanced up, she added, "And believe me, I'm not saying this to… try to regain your trust or whatever. I know this whole Jack thing screwed a lot of things up and maybe you won't ever trust me again, but… I do like you. It's up to you whether you want to believe it."
He watched her for another moment, his brows slightly furrowed. "How do you feel about brunch?" he asked, apropos of nothing.
She blinked. "What?"
"Want to get something to eat?" he asked as he got to his feet. "I'm kind of hungry after everything this morning. Aren't you?"
A small smile broke over her face. "Yeah, I guess I am."
"Good," he said as they headed out the door. "I know this place nearby, they make these great lobster puffs."
"Lobster?" her voice grew fainter as they disappeared down the hall. "But I'm allergic to shellfish…"
-----
"Hey," said Jensen as Tru and Jack approached his café table, his welcoming expression quickly changing to one of suspicious confusion. "Jack? What are you doing here?"
"It's nice to see you too, Jensen," said Jack, pulling up a chair.
"Jack's, uh," Tru said quickly, "I sort of invited him along for the day. So you guys could get to know each other. You don't mind, do you?"
"Uh, no," said Jensen, looking as though he were forcing a smile. "No, that's fine."
"I'll go get us some coffee," Jack said. "Tru, I suppose you'll be wanting something large and strong and black?"
"Thanks," she said gratefully as she sat down. "Two sugars."
"Jensen?"
The other man shook his head. "I'm fine, thanks."
With a smile in Tru's direction, Jack headed to the counter. As soon as he was out of earshot, Jensen leaned in across the table, looking irritated. "Why is he here?" he asked in a low voice. "I thought it was just gonna be you and me today."
"Give him a break," she said. "I know you two didn't exactly start off on the right foot, but it's New Year's Eve, Jensen; he hasn't got anywhere else to go."
"Do the holidays always make you this charitable?"
She shot him an annoyed look. "I'm not being charitable. Jack's - "
"Your friend," he sighed. "Yeah, I know. Sorry. I just - "
"Jack's not my…" she trailed off, glancing thoughtfully at the other man as he placed his coffee order. "Well, maybe he is. I dunno. Everything's weird right now."
Just then, he turned as though he felt her gaze on him, and as their eyes met he smiled again, in the wry, calculating manner that she knew so well and had grown to loathe on more than one occasion. But today, she found herself smiling back.
Unnoticed, Jensen watched this whole exchange, his eyes darkening as his gaze travelled from Tru, to Jack, and back to Tru again. "Hey," he said, placing a hand over hers to capture her attention, "I woke up this morning with the weirdest feeling. It was like this… humming… all over my skin, and under it, too. It was intense… and kinda painful. Like all my nerves were getting fried."
She turned back to him, suddenly alert. "Yeah?"
"All the hairs up and down my arm were standing on end," he grinned self-consciously. "It seemed like I was getting electrocuted or something. It was bizarre."
Jack, having just come back to hear the tail-end of the description, gave Tru a significant look as he set the coffees down. "Sounds like you had quite a dream."
"Yeah," Jensen nodded as his hold tightened on Tru's hand, whether purposefully or not. Jack noticed, and he smiled again, looking away.
-----
"Hey guys!" Avery greeted her friends from the clinic counter. "Happy New Year! … almost."
For a moment Tru was taken aback as she recalled their previous encounters on this day, and the fact that Avery, unprompted, seemed to have said something different in greeting. But she shook off the uneasy feeling and leaned over the counter for a hug. "Happy New Year, Avery. Hey Tyler. Have you guys met Jack?"
"Yeah, sure," Avery grinned. "We met at your Christmas do last week. So what are you guys doing here?"
"Just dropping by to see my favourite doctor in the clinic," Tru said tentatively, wondering if the conversation would get back on track.
"Watch the sweet talk," Jensen said, laughing. "I might get jealous."
"You will never have what Tru and I have," Avery winked. "Ours is a fated love."
"If I can't have it," he raised an eyebrow. "Can I at least watch this fated love?"
"Men," Avery and Tru said in unison, shaking their heads and rolling their eyes as Tyler and Jensen shared a high-five. Jack merely smiled, standing to one side, looking slightly aloof.
"Anyway, what are our plans tonight?" Jensen asked. "Tru, you said something about your brother throwing a party - "
"Yeah," she said with a nervous laugh. "That's not… uh, really happening. You know Harrison, not exactly the most prepared guy in the world. He's still doing some remodelling at his new place."
"Bummer," said Avery, glancing at Tyler. "We were kinda counting on that for our New Year's festivities. Tyler was lusting over those cheese cubes your brother ordered back at your birthday."
"That's kinda lame, Tyler," said Jensen, grinning.
"Dude, you didn't even stay at the party," Tyler said with a quirk of the brow. "Don't knock it until you try it."
"We can always meet at my place," Tru laughed. "In fact, me and Jack and Jensen are gonna head over right now. Maybe we could just hang tonight, you know? Drinks, chips and dips, I'll see if Harrison can swing by with the cheese. What do you say?"
"Sounds good," said Jensen, smiling. He took a step forward, "Hey Av-ow!"
"What's wrong?" demanded Avery, rushing forward to stop him from falling. Tru, on the other hand, glanced back at Jack. He gave her a look that plainly said I told you so before he assumed an appropriately surprised-and-concerned expression.
"It's my leg," muttered Jensen, pressing a hand to his right calf. "Wow, that's really weird…"
"Let's get you checked out," said Avery worriedly. "I'm on a break right now. Come through to the spare exam room."
"No, it's fine," he muttered. "I must've just had a cramp or something…"
"Come on," she gave an insistent tug on his arm. "It didn't sound like just a cramp. It'll take, like, one second…"
"I better follow them," Tru said to Jack as she watched Avery drag Jensen down the hall. "You okay staying here for five minutes?"
"For you? I can do ten," his voice was light.
"Very funny," she gave him an exasperated look. "I'll be right back."
She hurried off behind her friends, leaving him standing out in reception, looking wan and thoughtful.
-----
"I'll put everything down for Four Leaf Clover coming in first, thanks," said Harrison as he strutted up to the ticketing counter. "Race four. Yeah, I've got a good feeling about this one."
-----
"Well, everything seems fine," said Avery, furrowing her brows as she watched Jensen roll down his pants leg. "No muscle strain, no cuts and bruises. 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?"
Tru knew that she should have expected the symmetry of the situation from previous days. But as she stood there, watching Jensen and Avery have the exact same conversation as from the first rewind, she couldn't help feeling the small chill crawling through her bloodstream, the one that she'd also felt earlier, growing more and more persistent with each rewind, like slow-acting poison.
"Tru?" Avery asked again, raising an eyebrow.
"Huh?" Tru snapped out of her reverie. "Sorry, what?"
"I hope you were deep in thought about what possible medical explanation one could give for this mysterious stabbing pain?"
Tru laughed weakly. "No brilliant medical explanation, sorry."
"Well," said Avery, turning back to Jensen. "Pick up a prescription for painkillers if you want. But I guess it's just some involuntary muscle spasm. Give it a few more days and…"
"Come back if the pain persists, yada yada, I know the drill," he grinned just as Tru's cell phone started to ring.
"Excuse me, you guys," she said, flipping open the phone and walking to one side. "Tru speaking."
"What's the hell is going on, Tru?"
"Harrison? What's wrong? Calm down."
"Calm down? You're telling me to calm down? I just lost all the money I have in the world on the horse that YOU told me would WIN! But guess what? IT DIDN'T!"
"What?" she demanded. "But that's impossible! Are you sure you bet on the right one?"
"Four Leaf Clover, race four at noon, everything that you told me! That horse didn't even place!"
"This is bad. I've gotta talk to Jack," she muttered, striding out of the examination room and leaving Jensen and Avery staring after her.
"What's the deal with this Jack guy, anyway?" asked Avery carefully.
"I have no idea," Jensen said, his voice glum. "They have this… weird dynamic. Before today, I got the feeling that she only put up with him for one reason or another; but today, I dunno…" he shrugged. "They definitely have a history."
"Don't they all?" she sighed, patting him on the shoulder sympathetically.
-----
"I don't care how you get the money," Tru demanded into the phone as she strode out into reception. "Just… fix the balcony, okay? It's really important. I'm sorry about the horse, I really am; I have no idea why it turned out differently today. But go, okay? We need to get that railing fixed – that's where all the trouble started."
Jack was still standing where she'd left him ten minutes ago. She ran up to him, turning off the phone. "Something's wrong," she said. "The horse that won at the tracks yesterday? It didn't even place today."
He furrowed his brows. "How is that possible?"
"I don't know!" she exclaimed, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out of the reception to avoid the curious stares of waiting patients. "Four Leaf Clover always won the noon race! That's what happened in the last three days!"
"I remember," he said heavily. "I was there when it won the first time."
"So?" she looked at him imploringly. "What does this mean?"
"Events are changing," he said slowly, looking lost in thought. "We can't count on things to stay the same anymore."
"And what does that mean?" she demanded, her hold on his arm tightening. "Jack, talk to me!"
He turned suddenly, his eyes boring into hers with a degree of severity she had rarely seen in all their time together. "Don't you understand, Tru?" he said, his voice low and urgent. "Our jobs deal with people's destinies. Not just theirs, but those of everyone around them. It's a domino effect – every act that you commit will inevitably have far-reaching consequences. Setting aside the whole issue of your calling, this rewind day is starting to unravel all by itself. Events are spinning out of balance; things that used to be certainties aren't certain anymore. Now what does that suggest to you?"
"That we have to stop it, and fast," she said gravely.
"Right," he said, his gaze still fixed on hers. "Tru, I'm not going to say to you what I've said already, because I know it'll be a waste of my breath and your time. But… just keep in mind what has happened over the past three days, okay? Think about the connections between them."
She stared at him, fully aware of what he wasn't saying. But she had nothing with which to reply. Blinking, she looked away; the sun was still high in the sky, dispersing patches of light across the grounds like fragments of glass.
He watched her silently, his eyes bleached to pale ice-blue by the silver light.
"Jack?" she murmured.
"I'm here."
"When is this going to stop?"
He didn't answer, and she didn't look his way. A moment later she felt him reach out, and his hand brushed against her cheek.
She closed her eyes, swallowing with difficulty. The sun left delicate red-gold imprints on the back of her eyelids, and in the silence she could feel the beating of her own heart, the shallow blood-pulse in the tips of her fingers and at the base of her throat. His fingers felt dry and warm against her skin, a gentle caress, speaking of understanding, and sympathy, and above all, comfort.
"Don't give up," he said softly. "I've seen you when you do these things. You always figure it out. You always know what to do in the end."
"Except when you get in my way," she said, opening her eyes with a disconsolate smile.
"Even then," he looked away with a small shrug, his hand falling to his side. "Even then you amaze me."
She stared at him, her lips parting slightly, whether out of surprise or incredulity. He wasn't looking at her, however; he was gazing into the unseen distance, his head slightly tilted back, his brows set in a deep furrow. Suddenly she felt all at once the burdens that were heaped upon them, not only hers but his as well, the duties and the expectations of some unseen, unbidden higher will, bending the invisible paths that stretched out in front of each and every person in this world. It was a terrifying thing, made only bearable by the fact that he was standing there beside her, and that she knew that he, too, knew no more than she did.
"Jack," she began to say, touching him gingerly on the arm, but faltered when she saw Jensen walk out of the clinic, his expression stormy. "Hey," she said, "Jensen…?"
He didn't respond. Instead he charged up to them and, without another word, shoved Jack hard in the chest.
Jack staggered back, looking simultaneously surprised and, as was his wont, slightly amused. "Whoa, big guy," he said, "a little hostile here."
"Don't you act like that with me," said Jensen through gritted teeth.
"What the hell are you doing, Jensen?" Tru exclaimed, grabbing his arm.
"I don't need to take this," he retorted, his eyes blazing. "You understand? I don't need to take this. Life's too short to be playing games! You two wannna sneak around behind my back and pretend nothing's wrong? Go straight ahead! Just don't expect me to wait around."
"Jensen, what?" she cried, chasing after him as he shook off her hand and strode away from the clinic. "Jack and I aren't… we weren't doing anything - "
"I can see it in your eyes, Tru!" he shouted, swirling around. "You two have a history that I don't know about, that's fine; you run off to talk to him when you're upset, I can deal with that; but I can't stand being lied to! You know how we talked about priorities earlier? Well, you've got to sort out yours. Either you want to be with me or you don't - "
"I do want to be with you!" she cried desperately.
"Then why don't I believe you?" he answered after a pause, his voice plaintive.
She stared at him, her mouth suddenly dry. "I…" she whispered. "I don't know."
"That's what I thought," he said quietly, before he turned and walked away.
She watched his retreating figure, for a moment not quite comprehending what had happened until Jack sauntered up beside her and said mildly, "I suppose you're gonna make that my fault, too?"
"No," she said softly as they watched Jensen walk down the street, not looking back. "I don't know what that was."
He nodded and said no more. They were still watching when Jensen, his figure growing smaller and smaller, walked beneath a building that was encased with scaffolding. They were still watching when one single brick, seemingly carelessly mishandled by the construction workers, fell from several storeys above. It caught Jensen squarely on the temple. Immediately, he crumpled to the ground.
"Oh my god," exclaimed Tru, clamping a hand to her mouth, "what the… oh my god…"
She did not miss Jack's quiet voice behind her as she began to run.
"You still think he can be saved?"
-----
Tru couldn't count the number of hours she had spent here on this day that refused to end, or how long since she last had a decent sleep. When she found herself in the morgue once again, with Jensen's body laid out in front of her, she had to lean all her weight onto the table, her fingers digging into the cold metal as though that was the only way she could keep herself upright. She stared down at his face, and with a shaking hand drew the sheet over it.
Jack, who had again encased himself in the shadows at one corner of the room, watched and said nothing.
"Tru, I'm so sorry," Davis said quietly, with Carrie standing beside him. "I know - "
"You don't need to say anything, Davis," she said with bone-weary calm, not looking at him. "You said it all in the last three rewinds. I know exactly how you feel about all this, and I promise I'll respect your opinion when it matters. But for now… please, just leave me alone. I still have a job to do."
Davis glanced at Carrie, who in turn looked at Jack imploringly. He, expressionless, gave a brief nod before turning his eyes back on Tru.
Taking Davis by the arm, Carrie slowly guided him out of the room. "Come on," she whispered. "Let's just give her some space…"
Silence pressed down as the doors shut behind them. Tru bowed her head over Jensen's body, her dark hair falling into severe contrast with the snow-white sheet. She could feel Jack watching her from where he stood, alert but resigned, as though he was waiting for something and, at the same time, nothing at all.
"I can't do this anymore," she whispered, not looking at him. "Everything has stopped making sense, and no matter what I do or how hard I try, somebody always dies; it doesn't matter how many times I relive this day, I'm never gonna get it right."
He didn't reply, but he shifted a little, still looking at her intently, his eyes misty blue in the darkness.
"I just want it to stop," she murmured, and it seemed as though she no longer knew to whom she was speaking this at all; to Jack perhaps, or herself, or even Jensen's cold dead body lying there in front of her. She looked up and tears had again filled her eyes, but she bit down on her lip, trying not to let them escape.
"This is the third time he's died in four days." Her voice was very soft. "I can't keep going on like this… I just can't. I don't know what's happening or why, or how I'm ever going to stop it. Nothing makes sense. Nothing is right. And the world is going out of balance and I think I'm running out of time before everything goes to hell and I have no idea what to do…"
She was crying openly now, her body shaking with barely-suppressed sobs. He looked back, then, and their eyes met. The expression in hers was desolate, his painful.
"It's gonna be okay," he whispered as he stepped forward, into the white circle of light, gathering her into his arms. "I promise it'll be okay."
With a shuddering sigh she pressed her face into his shoulder. "You said that yesterday, too. And we're right back where we started - "
"We're not exactly where we started," he said and looked away, swallowing. "I think… I think maybe some things are starting to make sense."
There was a strange humming in her ears as he turned back and their eyes met once more. In his, she could see something dark and desperate, something that spoke much more than his words alone. For a moment time seemed to slow and it almost felt, to her, like the day was going to rewind again, but then the realisation hit like the floor had been wrenched from under her feet. This feeling, the sensation of electricity springing up in the pit of her stomach, the faint aching in her chest – it wasn't a rewind. It was him.
"Jack?" she whispered again, not knowing what she wanted him to say in reply.
He kissed her.
She remained immobile, too stunned to even contemplate moving; in that split second a thousand misgivings ran through her head and she was already seeing the repercussions of this, the consequences of it stretching out far and wide across their interlinked destinies. But a haze of static seemed to spring up in her mind and before she quite understood what she was doing she found herself already kissing him back, and it felt like a kind of salvation.
His lips were warm, and soft, which she didn't quite expect, though she didn't know how it could have been otherwise. As his mouth moved over hers she thought she could taste the life in him, hot and brilliant like a falling star, and it surprised and touched her in equal measures. He didn't seem like death, then; his kiss wasn't comprised of dust and ashes. He was just Jack, and as his hold on her waist tightened she drew up to him willingly, letting herself sink into his embrace.
She could feel him trembling as the kiss deepened, as though he was trying to convince her – and perhaps himself – that he was more than the sum of his actions over this past year. And also that perhaps he, like her, was capable of something better than this. She gave into the uncertainty, her hands trailing up the back of his neck to pull him closer, and she could feel him shudder when she traced the small scar behind his ear, the relic from times long past. She didn't quite feel like herself, here in this cold, empty room with those flickering fluorescent lights above, with his lips parting against hers and bringing with it a dizzying wave of euphoria and anguish alike. There was a painful hollow in her chest, and it felt like she was looking down from the edge of an abyss, like she was drifting upwards in an endless expanse of cerulean sky. It felt like she was splintering into fragments and coming back together again, all at once.
When they finally broke apart, they were both gasping for breath. It seemed as though, in giving in to this, they had given in to something much larger and more forceful than they could ever have expected. "Jack," she whispered, placing a hand over her throat, trying to slow her uneven breathing.
He stared at her, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "I…" he murmured, "I have to go. I need to…"
He didn't finish the sentence as he strode from the room, before she had the chance to say anything else. She could hear him breaking into a run as the door swung shut behind him.
-----
"See the bars down here?" said the handyman that Harrison had called, pointing. "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 irritably. "I just need a quote, man."
"Can't say for sure yet," the man bent down to have another look. "But… ball park figure, I'd say about between seven hundred and a thousand."
For a moment Harrison thought of calling Tru again, but upon reflection of her irritated voice earlier, he curbed the impulse. I don't care how you get the money, she had said, her tone cold and imperative, just fix the balcony.
He sighed. It was clear what he had to do.
-----
Jack paused in front of Richard's office door, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He hadn't seen Richard since the man had threatened to shoot him a couple of rewinds ago, and while Richard obviously retained no memory of the event, Jack wasn't particularly prone to forgetting scenarios that involved guns being pointed at his head. But there were too many questions that had to be answered, and Richard was the only source remaining that hadn't already been exhausted. Jack glanced briefly at the window before he went in; it was starting to get dark again, the last of the sunlight fading from the western horizon, the colour of it like watered wine.
"A hypothetical scenario," he announced as he sauntered into Richard's office. "If a rewind day starts making you have doubts about what you're doing, what would you do?"
"Don't you ever knock?" Richard demanded, looking irritated as he got up from his desk to close the door.
Jack only shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest.
Returning to his seat, Richard contemplated him with furrowed brows. "What happened? Is this a rewind day?"
"No," lied Jack, hoping his poker face was sufficient. "Just wondering. You know, about the fact that none of us really know what's going on, or even where our powers come from. And that got me thinking - "
"Jack," Richard interrupted. "Your role is a simple one. It's the counterpart to Tru's. That's all it is."
"But how do you know this?"
"It's the natural order of things, Jack," said Richard. "Yin and Yang, order and chaos, creation and destruction. She intervenes with fate, you restore the balance. You knew all this. Why the sudden doubt?"
Jack shrugged again. "Just suppose something – quite a few things – happened, that was enough to make you doubt whether you were doing the right…?"
He stopped suddenly. The realisation struck him much like, he thought, the way lightning would, sending a jolt from the top of his head straight to the bottoms of his feet, leaving a hum on his skin and a rapid beat to his heart. "Oh," he said. "That's a purpose in itself."
Richard stared at him. "Excuse me?"
"Multiple rewind days have a purpose," Jack murmured under his breath, his mind reeling. "Something that you have to learn gradually, something that will lead you to the eventual conclusion…"
"Multiple…" Richard looked like he was straining to hear. "What the hell are you talking about, Jack?"
Jack looked up, then, his eyes very bright. He opened his mouth to speak, but Richard suddenly made a silencing motion and cut him off. "Hold on," the older man said, striding out from behind his desk and yanking the door open.
Harrison was standing in the doorway.
-----
Tru had spent many a night working alone at the morgue, with only corpses for company. Certainly she had her moments of paranoia and fear and loneliness, but as she sat there next to Jensen's body, she felt with certainty that whatever she felt before had nothing on this.
Her mind kept flashing back, despite her active resistance, to the kiss. The way Jack looked when she started crying in earnest, the desperately confused expression he wore as he stumbled away from her, the searching pressure of his lips on hers…
Hastily, she drew off the part of the sheet covering Jensen's face, in hopes of driving thoughts of Jack from her mind. It half worked. Jensen's calm, frigid countenance, with the dark red wound on his left temple, led her thoughts from the kiss to what Jack had said, earlier. You still think he can be saved? He had asked, not spitefully but with an edge of weariness to his voice, a fearsome finality.
"But if death was your destiny," she whispered to Jensen's immobile face, "why are we still rewinding? What else am I supposed to learn from this?"
There was, of course, no answer. She shook her head, pressing her lips to his forehead, feeling as though she might start crying again.
"Tru."
She gasped and looked back at him, her eyes searching wildly over his features. But he remained as impassive as ever.
"Tru," said Davis, walking up from behind her. "It's me. Sorry to get your hopes up."
"It's okay," she could only manage a faint smile. "I've given up on him asking for help, anyway."
"Where's Jack?" he asked.
She turned away, hoping that he wouldn't see her expression. "He had to, uh, go check on something. I don't really know."
He nodded and pulled up another chair. "Things are so weird today."
"Tell me about it," she forced another small smile.
"Tru," he said, scratching his chin. "When you said earlier… about you knowing exactly how I feel about all this…"
"We've had several conversations, Davis. I think you made your point pretty clear."
"Oh," he said, and after a pause asked, "have you, you know, figured out what's triggering these multiple rewinds?"
She shook her head mutely, still staring down at Jensen's face.
"Cos I was thinking," he said slowly. "It might not be just you. Maybe it's Jack. Maybe fate wants him to figure something out."
"I haven't thought of that," she murmured, lifting her head.
"Well, it's just a thought," he stood up and patted her on the shoulder. "You sure you don't want something to eat or to lie down for a while…?"
"I'm fine, Davis," she shook her head. "I think I'll stay here a little longer."
"Okay. I'll be up in Carrie's office if you need me."
After his footsteps have died away, she turned back to Jensen. Carefully, almost as though she were afraid to disturb his slumber, she placed one hand against his cheek.
He was cold, and a little stiff to the touch. She flinched at the feel of it, because again she was forcefully reminded of Jack, the way he shuddered when her fingers traced the bullet scar on the back of his neck. It seemed like a sign of weakness, something that she didn't think him capable of, once upon a time.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to Jensen, not knowing why she was saying this at all. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you, and I'm sorry I still can't save you, and I'm sorry… sorry for other things as well…"
She didn't think she had any more tears to cry, but apparently she was wrong. As she lowered her head onto his cold chest and began to sob out loud, she thought she could feel something breaking inside of her. Perhaps it was her heart. She didn't think so, however. Perhaps it was something much more complicated than that.
-----
"This isn't what you think, Harrison," Richard said, staring.
"Oh god," Harrison murmured, pressing a hand to his mouth. "Dad, you… you and Jack. I gotta find Tru, I gotta - "
"No!" exclaimed Richard, taking a step forward. "Just let me explain!"
"There's nothing to explain!" yelled Harrison, his eyes darting wildly to Jack. "I heard what you were saying! I heard everything! You two have been in this together since… god, I don't know when, but… oh, god… I've got to tell Tru…"
"Harrison!" Richard exclaimed, desperately. "You can't!"
"You can't stop me, dad," wailed Harrison, turning away and stumbling toward the stairwell, "I have to…"
"HARRISON!" Richard yelled, running after his son, shoving Jack aside in his haste. "HARRISON!"
For a moment Jack stood there, too stunned to move. But his senses quickly flooded back and he ran after the others, with no idea what he was to do when he got there. He paused on the stairwell, seeing Richard catch up to Harrison on the level below, and with a violent blow he struck Harrison's cell phone from his hands, pushing his son up against the wall.
Jack sucked in a breath. The scene seemed familiar. In fact, he realised with a pang, it seemed an exact reconstruction of what had happened only a week ago at his old apartment, where Harrison saw them together for the first time. "You have no idea what you are dealing with!" exclaimed Richard as he grasped Harrison by the shirt collar, the force of it almost wrenching the younger man's feet off the ground.
Jack swallowed as he gripped the banister; Richard had said that exact same thing, too, a week ago. He didn't know why this scene was playing out verbatim here and now, but he was sure it had a purpose. All things had a purpose. They must.
"Let me go!" Harrison exclaimed. "What am I dealing with?"
"I want to be honest to you, son; and I want you to know what is at stake here," hissed Richard, his steel-grey eyes burning into a focus. "But you gotta promise me one thing."
"What? What is that, huh?"
"You will not mention to Tru what I'm about to discuss with you - "
"It'll be a cold day in hell before I promise you that," Harrison said through gritted teeth.
"I am so sorry to hear that," Richard said after a pause, and his grip tightened.
Jack could see Harrison starting to gag, a violent surge of red flooding across his face. He almost turned away at that point; he knew what was to come: Richard would choke Harrison to the point of collapse, and then he would let go and Harrison would get away and tell Tru everything, and perhaps this time, finally, everything will be answered. He was surprised at the weight of the relief that crashed over him, like a tidal wave. Perhaps it was for the best, now, that she found out the part Richard played in all this.
He was so taken up by his reverie that it took him a few moments to realise that no sound was coming from the level below. "Richard?" he called as he ran down the stairs, "Harrison?"
He came to an abrupt stop. Richard was standing in the exact same position as before, but Harrison was lying at his feet. And he wasn't moving.
"What…?" murmured Jack, his throat suddenly dry.
"I… I didn't mean to," whispered Richard, staring down at Harrison's motionless body.
"He's dead?" asked Jack disbelievingly as he crouched down beside the other man. He searched for a pulse; there was none.
"My… my son…" Richard whispered. "Oh god, Harrison…"
"It wasn't supposed to be this way," muttered Jack, staring at Harrison's lifeless face. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this…"
A chill crept down his back as he recalled the earlier incident with the track bet. "Everything's falling apart," he muttered, trying to calm his rapid breathing as he took out his phone and began to dial Tru's number. "Everything's going wrong…"
"Jack."
"What?" he glanced over his shoulder. Richard just stared at him blankly.
"Jack."
Slowly, and with a sense of foreboding, Jack turned toward Harrison's body.
The other man's eyes were wide open.
"Help her."
Usually Jack's rewinds were abrupt and electric, with no forewarning and an overwhelming cold that numbed his senses. But this time, warmth flooded through his body as his vision swam out of focus; it was an unfamiliar feeling, one that he had experienced only once before.
-----
Tru sat up straight in her bed, fighting for breath and feeling as though she might throw up. "Oh my god," she managed to choke out, wiping cold sweat from her brow.
The rewind she just had was different to all the others, bar one. There were flashbacks this time, clear ones, of horses racing on a track and a man in overalls nudging Harrison's balcony railing with a toe. There were images, also, of a door being jerked open to reveal her father standing behind it, and Jack behind him; of her father looming up close, the feeling of constriction in her throat as she struggled to get oxygen into her lungs, and the look in Richard's cold grey eyes as she sank, slowly, toward the ground. And then there was nothing.
"What did you do, dad?" she murmured, leaping out of bed.
It was the morning of New Year's Eve, for the fifth time.
-----
"We need to talk," Jack exclaimed as he barged into Richard's office.
"Do you ever knock?" Richard asked irritably, looking up from his desk.
"Here's the deal," said Jack, ignoring the other man. "Tru and I are on a multiple rewind loop. We've woken up this morning on five separate occasions and every time someone different dies. Except Jensen – he seems to croak on a pretty frequent basis. The first time, you died. And you asked for help from Tru. And last night? You killed Harrison, and he asked for my help. Why? I have absolutely no idea. I know we're supposed to be looking for some sort of purpose to this whole thing, and Tru and I have been trying to work this out non-stop for the past I-don't-know-how-many hours. But I think I figured it out, finally, last night, before I rewound. It's the only thing I can think of that makes sense."
Richard had gotten up from his desk and closed the door behind Jack, listening intently to the entire tirade. Now he met the other man's eyes. "What?"
Jack set his jaw. "I wanna quit."
"I'm afraid that's not an option," Richard replied crisply.
"I can't do this job anymore, Richard!" Jack exclaimed. "Things have happened in the past four days, things that I never thought could happen, and now I'm seriously starting to doubt if I'm supposed to be doing the things that you told me I'm supposed to do!"
"Things like what, exactly?" Richard demanded. "Don't question your calling, Jack, everything's cut and dried; there's no room for doubt."
"Why not?" Jack retorted, his eyes flashing. "No one knows what they're supposed to be doing, do they? Fate… what does it want? What is it? Things are being thrown out of balance, the laws of causality are changing right in front of our eyes and nothing makes any sense anymore!"
"You know exactly who you are," Richard said grimly. "You are the opposite of what Tru is. You restore the balance to things. You keep fate in line."
"But how do you know that?" Jack demanded, his fists clenching at his sides. "Who told you this? How can you be sure this is what I'm supposed to be doing? Why do I have to be the one that keeps her from saving people's lives? I never asked for it - "
"Neither did I," interrupted Richard, his voice sombre. "This is just how it is, Jack. None of us asked for it to happen and none of us got told why."
"So how do you know what we're doing is right?" Jack yelled, losing his composure. "God, Richard! I don't want to do this anymore! I never wanted any of it!"
"When I found you," Richard said slowly, staring at him, "you were a mess. You didn't know how or why you were starting to relive days, with visions that made no sense at all. You thanked me when I set you on the right track. You said you understood what you needed to do."
"I know," said Jack, his face very white.
"I gave you a purpose, Jack. Your powers mean something now. You are something instead of nothing."
Jack stared at Richard. He didn't know it, but his eyes were wide, very blue under the pale sun, and from them a desperate light shone, as though he were burning up from within.
"Jack," Richard said, beginning to look unnerved.
"Maybe I'd rather be nothing than this," Jack said, jerking his gaze away.
Richard stared at him. "Is something going on between you and my daughter?" he demanded suddenly, seemingly apropos of nothing.
Jack turned sharply. "Why do you say that?"
"Because I know that expression on your face, Jack," Richard said quietly. "I remember it well. It was the exact same expression I wore when I realised I was falling in love with Tru's mother."
Jack blanched. "I'm not…" he began weakly.
"Don't interrupt me," Richard said. "I know that look. I know how it feels. Now I understand where you're coming from. Why do you think I married her even though I knew what she was? Elise was an amazing woman, and when I look at Tru these days it's like looking into a time warp - "
"I…" Jack said, but he faltered, dropping his gaze.
"I guess on some levels, only a person who understood what she was going through could bear her… habits," Richard said slowly. "I understood. I also understood what she had to accomplish, the heart and soul that had to go into it, the planning, the constant changes and the mental anguish of having lost another round. I understood all that, and I loved her for it. That's why I married her."
Despite his better instincts, Jack couldn't help looking back up.
"I knew everything about her," Richard said, his voice hollow with nostalgia. "She, on the other hand, knew nothing about me. Perhaps it was for the best. It would have only broken her heart to find out what I was doing behind her back all that time, undoing the tasks she tried so hard to accomplish, returning the people she saved to their rightful destinies. I loved her. I didn't want to see her suffer from knowing all this."
Jack could feel a wistful smile floating to his lips. "This coming from a man who ordered a hit on her only a few years later."
"It's a different issue, Jack. I don't expect you to understand. I married her for love; I killed her for my own sanity."
"But why did you have to kill her?"
"Jack," Richard fixed him with an incredulous stare. "You're a smart man. How could you not have figured this out by now?"
"By all means, enlighten me."
"You can't quit from this," Richard said, and his gaze had turned bright and brittle, like splintered glass. "You two will be locked into this fight until it kills one of you. Haven't you gotten enough clues by now? You and Tru are joined, Jack; just like Elise and me. Your fates are intertwined, as they always have been. You're two halves of a larger whole, nemeses, soulmates, whatever you want to call it, however you want to spin the facts. As long as her powers remain, so do yours; and it works the other way, too. That's why I said you can't quit from this. Neither of you will ever be able to walk away unless the other one dies."
Jack stared at Richard, speechless.
"I had to quit, Jack," Richard said, turning away. "It was too much. I couldn't carry on doing what I did any longer. But I didn't want to die. So…" he trailed off, shaking his head.
The door swung inward at that moment. Jack and Richard turned sharply, the latter drawing in a quick breath.
Tru stood in the doorway, her face streaked with tears.
"So you killed mom?" she asked softly.