I'm one man to make a difference
I'm one soul all persistence
In a dark word, just trying to make things right
Choices we weren't given
Any heroes, and our decision
Is to stand up and fight for ourselves
The heat was intense, the wound down windows were doing nothing to combat the warmth which filled the car. As they sped through the roads Jack wondered why they didn't have the air-con on, but he didn't ask. The young agent who had been assigned to drive him to the centre remained silent throughout the entire trip, and he doubted things would change now. He was a flunky from Division, so he'd probably been ordered not to talk to him.
As they slowed to a stop at another set of traffic lights Jack noticed that the driver wasn't sweating as heavily as he was, his own shirt clinging to his skin uncomfortably. So that's why the air con isn't on, he thought half embarrassed, I'm the only person in the car going through withdrawal. The kid turned to look at him briefly as though he'd herd Jack's silent revelation, and Jack shielded his face from view by looking out of the window. He cursed himself for doing so, it wasn't like the boy didn't know he was an addict, he was going to a rehabilitation centre for a reason.
He allowed himself to look forward once the car was back in motion and he felt a rush of relief as the drivers attention was on the road, he seemed bored with the journey. Jack glanced at the watch on his wrist, they had at least another hour to go, and that was pushing it. He rubbed the back of his hand against his head in frustration, it was starting already, he wasn't supposed to get symptoms for another three hours. He realised he'd be a quivering wreck when he got there, what an impression he was going give.
Would he be treated with sympathy or disgust he wondered? More importantly, did her deserve their sympathy? No, of course not. As it was a military orientated clinic he assumed it would be the latter, doctors and staff looking at the scum they had to treat as though they were something they'd trodden in. He knew he didn't deserve anything from them, but his stomach tensed up even more in anticipation with this. It was hard enough living with himself knowing what sad excuse of a man he was, but hearing it from strangers too, that would be damaging. He knew it already, but that wouldn't stop it from hurting more than it already was.
People I don't know will think I'm worthless, so how are the people I do know going to react to this? Excluding Kim, who had every right to be ashamed of her father, others would certainly disown him. He wanted to laugh at the thought but he knew it would accelerate the slight cramp in his stomach; who the hell could disown him? Other than Kim he had nobody. Maybe that's why he had gone to such an extreme extent to save his cover, he had nothing to lose. Kim was lost; long gone, and although he had tried to salvage their relationship, she really would be better off without him.
He thought back to the clinic, he hoped he would just be left alone. Sure, given medical help if needed, but no prissy 'councillors,' or people who are there to 'help.' Just leave me alone, and I'll do fine. He new if that were the case he wouldn't be going here, he would have got off it months ago, but he let it drop. He was going around in circles.
Anyway, the place was more than likely going to be basic military procedure. So he probably wouldn't be left alone, but at least he wouldn't be treated like some war victim either. It would be just like boot camp, only your completing the cycle instead of starting it. They treat you like shit to harden you up, you waste your life getting dirty to keep the important people clean; and then when you're almost through the cycle, your that messed up you end up as some kind of substance abuser. Off to rehab where you will be treated, and feel like shit once more. Then its game over, cycle complete, thanks a lot for the effort.
He didn't intentionally scoff out loud, but he still did. The driver started to turn his head in curiosity, but stopped himself. He didn't care, the man sat besides him was a lose canon and one he didn't care to light himself. Jack stared at him anyway, part of him wondering if the kid was intimidated by him. Of course not, who the hell would be scared of a junky, a drug addict and a nobody…
He looked back out of the window and was pleased to notice they had turned onto the freeway. As the car increased in speed the air blew into his face and hair, relaxing him, he almost felt refreshed for a moment. He closed his eyes and leant his head back, enjoying the feeling of comfort which he knew wouldn't last. Think positive thoughts, he reminded himself, think of Kim. That was his game plan, when it got hard, think of the phone call. Think of her, the one reason why he had to do this, and the one reason he was so scared to fail. If he could make it through this, then who knows, maybe he will get the chance to make things right, be a good father. It was a little late, but as his own father had told him after turning up on his doorstep at 19 years old, better late than never.
He shook the thoughts of his father from his mind, where had they sprung from? He'd spent many nights drinking himself into oblivion, depressed, thinking about Kim and how much he missed her. The man had never entered his thoughts then, why now? Maybe he was losing it, great, CTU really would love that, not that they were short of reasons to fire him over.
As the car continued to pick up speed his mind lingered on the thought of the government, not CTU specifically, but just his work. CTU had plagued and cursed his life, yet it was all he lived for. Without work, he was nothing. Is that why he had agreed to go into rehab so easily? To try salvage what was left of his career? No, of course not, but still, the thought of going through this and not being able to work afterwards, it scared him. Just what was he going to do if he made it that far? He closed his eyes again, the air was getting cooler, relaxing him slightly which was better than nothing at all.
He knew he had to stop thinking about work, and CTU and his future. One step at a time, rehab, Kim and then who knew what would happen after that. Maybe CTU would want him, maybe they wouldn't. All he could do was get drug free so they had the option of rehiring him if necessary. He realised how selfish he was being again as he thought of CTU instead of his daughter, but then that's how it always had been….
And then there was Tony. After shaking Brads hand and thanking him for the help the man had filtered into his mind. Brad had seen the change in his eyes and told him to stop before he even asked, Alemida's case was now being treated as highest priority classified - which Jack knew meant they would do everything they could to hang him.
He tensed his arms as he remembered the thud he had felt in his stomach as Brad had spoken, it was like a de-ja-vu, only this time he was looking in through the glass, in the position Tony had been when it was Jack they were trying to destroy.
He balled his hands into a fist as he remembered how the pen ad shook in his hand as he had scribbled words down on a piece of discarded paper. He knew as he wrote he was taking the easy way out, hiding away and running from his fears. He wasn't strong enough to face her, maybe she would understand that. He hoped so, otherwise the words he had written to her would seem meaningless and cold, not painful and real; he meant every word in that letter. It was short and brief but concise and to the point. An apology to both of them, a promise that he would help as best he could, and then another apology before signing off. He had left it right there on the desk knowing it would find its way to her, before finding Brad waiting by the back entrance, he was going out of his way to avoid her. Coward.
He realised once again just how much it hurt to think about them, more pain he had unleashed on unsuspecting victims. If only he hadn't made Michelle give herself up, if only he hadn't caught Tony with Jane; if only he hadn't left Saunders behind. That one hurt, he had failed as a father and friend but even a soldier. Could he be of any use to his country? The answer was clear to him but not one he was willing to admit, not even to himself.
He twisted around in the seat to take a look behind them, before fiddling with the zip on his jogger pockets. He was becoming restless, and he knew it was all down to the drug. He was starting to itch, but he couldn't scratch it away, the itch was beneath his skin and running through his blood. Reminding him unnecessarily of his need, taunting him with his weakness.
He tried to focus his mind on Kim, on Terri on his mother… anything but work. He didn't want to hear the needle call him, he couldn't bear to hear Chase's anguished screams one more time. Or feel the sensation of Nina running her hands smoothly up his thighs, the release as he had pulled the trigger over and over, the sound of the bullet as it tore through the prison guards head…. It was a nightmare, images of the day before were projected at him at a terrific speed, reminding him of everything he had failed to do, every mistake he had made, and for that; every consequence somebody else had suffered.
We've been broken to pieces one by one
His eyes jerked open suddenly, they were still in the car, his mind had drifted. Had he fallen asleep? No, he could never sleep through the cramp which now consumed his mind. He watched with relief as the car pulled off the next exit, they were almost there. A feeling of anticipation and relief flooded him. He wanted to be here, he wanted to pain and the images and the lack of control to stop. He wanted to be able to say no and mean it. He smiled as the car pulled to a stop, despite the discomfort he was in. He felt relief knowing that he was almost there. Once he made it through the eye of this approaching storm he would be back on calm waters.