Alrighty, here it is, 2nd to last chapter. I hope its not too angsty, I may have gone a little overboard...
Chapter 13
He sat down hard on the edge of the bed, facing away from her. The towel in his hands dropped to the floor. Dimly he could hear the reporter in the background. He was saying his name. Was this actually happening?
He shook his head and gave a short, bitter laugh.
"Jack?" he heard from behind him. He heard the bed creak, then he felt her hand on his shoulder. "Jack, I'm so sorry. I never should have…" Her voice cracked and she didn't finish the sentence.
He turned his face to look at her. "This is not your fault. This is her fault."
"What?" She said, withdrawing her hand. They were both quiet for a moment. Then she spoke softly, "Jack, your mother, she tried to kill herself."
"I know that, Kate. I saw the same story you did." He was almost condescending.
Kate sat back on her knees, "I don't understand."
"You don't know my mother." He said plainly.
Jack was well aware that he had father issues. But at least his father had tried to be a parent, even if he had sometimes gone astray in his efforts. He had tried to instill something of himself in his son, tried to steer him in a general direction. His mother, on the other hand, was a different story.
She had been cold and distant for much of his childhood. Here and there, the odd moment of affection she would offer only served to confuse him. Occasionally, she would even seem to forget that she had a child. His appearance downstairs for breakfast or asking for a glass of water at night would almost catch her off guard.
But most of the time, she had just ignored him. She was almost Victorian in her regard for him, noticing only his flaws in decorum and presentation. He had grown older walking on eggshells around her.
Eventually, he had come to believe that she was a woman so enamored of her husband that there was simply no room for anyone else.
After the plane crash and subsequent rescue, Jack's mother had latched onto him. Cleaved to him as though drowning. He could only guess that this was because his father was gone and she didn't know what else to do or who else to turn to.
It was funny, as a kid, he would have done anything for her approval, or for even a minute of her attention. But back in LA after the rescue, every time she had spoken to him one incredibly distinct memory had come back to him. It had taken on a kind of mythic quality, as though this one memory was representative of their entire relationship.
The day he had gotten the shit kicked out of him defending the boy who would one day be his best man, he had come home and found her in the kitchen. He had stood there, bruised and beaten, waiting for her to turn and see him. When she had finally turned around, she had appraised him unflinchingly. "You father is waiting for you in his study." She had said. As he had turned to head down the hall, his mother had stopped him. "Jack." She said. He turned silently to look at her out of the eye that wasn't swollen nearly shut. She calmly retrieved a white dish towel from a drawer and walked toward him. "Don't get blood on the carpet." She had said, handing him the towel.
This was all too much to unload on Kate at this point, so he gave her a brief, unemotional rundown of his relationship, or lack thereof, with his mother.
She listened and nodded sympathetically. "But she's still your Mom, Jack." She said sympathetically.
"I know." He said, rubbing the wrinkles in his forehead.
"You know you have to go see her, right?"
"Yes." He said, and looked away from her. "I know."
"We can leave whenever you want." She said.
He stared at her and for a half second he entertained the thought of taking her with him. He was beyond moved that she would even suggest it. But then the gravity of the situation made it clear. "Kate, you can't come," He again looked away from her. "It's far too dangerous."
"They're looking for you too, Jack." She said.
He couldn't argue with the logic. "I'll have to turn myself in." he stated simply.
"I'm pretty sure that's a bad idea. I don't think they let people who aid prisoners in escaping see their ailing mothers." She thought for a minute, there had to be a better way. "When you hit the guard, did he see you do it?"
"I don't think so, why?"
"Did he see you with the gun? The other one I mean, the one who you saved?" She asked.
"I don't know. I think you took it from me, but I can't remember when." he answered, waiting for her to fill him in.
"Its worth a try anyway." She said. "Better than the alternative."
"Ya gotta help me out here, Kate." He said as he raised his eyebrows. "What the hell are you talking about."
"You have to tell them you weren't involved. That I used you and took you hostage." She said it quickly.
"They'll never believe that. What are you, 110 pounds?"
"They'll believe it if I had an accomplice." She thought a minute. "Use the name Alex Dodd." She looked at Jack who stared back at her in utter confusion, "My ex-husband. One more spot on his record won't kill him."
"And what? I just happened to escape after my mother tried to kill herself?" He asked.
"Tell them I let you go because we didn't need you anymore. I could use the points, and they'll know its not out of character. "
It took him a minute to fully wrap his head around the whole plan. She was scary good at this stuff. And she thought so quickly. He never would have been able to come up with something like this in the span of just a couple of minutes. No wonder she had survived on the run for so long, she was almost built for it.
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Jack retrieved a chair from the dining room table and dragged it to the center of the living room. The gesture was so similar to what she had seen him do countless times visiting her at the prison that it was startling. The memory of it was so strong, so evocative that she was actually back there with him for a minute, staring at him through thick glass.
He sat down and griped the sides of the seat. She walked over to him, positioning herself so she was standing directly in front of him. She leaned in and kissed him, quick and soft, then stood again. She stared at him for a moment, holding his gaze just longer than necessary. He noticed her hesitation and she saw his features harden, his eyes becoming stern and unreadable.
"Don't pretend that part of you isn't relieved that I'm going." He said coldly.
She took a step back, her mouth slightly agape. He flinched almost imperceptibly at the hurt on her face.
She said nothing and he continued, "Lets face it, this never would have worked anyway." She squinted a little and nodded slightly. Then slow realization dawned on her face. He was baiting her.
"Oh Jack," she said, her voice low, "You don't have to. It won't make this any easier and it'll just make it harder when your not here."
He swallowed hard and nodded. When he looked up at her, his eyes were bright and glassy and so dark.
"Ready?" She asked.
"Ready." He answered thickly. Then she punched him. The girl could throw a punch and blood immediately began to pour out of his nose, dripping onto his gray t-shirt.
Kate reached out gingerly, but didn't touch him. "I'll get a towel."
As she moved toward the kitchen, Jack grabbed her wrist and shook his head. "Finish it first." His voice was muffled and he sounded far away.
She pursed her lips and nodded. She hit him again and again, his cheek, his mouth, even his eye. And then she stopped. He held it together throughout, but towards the end he couldn't help but let a groan escape. When it was over, he released his tight grip from the seat beneath him and slumped back, his breathing erratic.
She found part of his face, near his right ear, that wasn't starting to purple, she put her hand there gingerly and looked into his eyes. "You okay?"
"No." he said and tried to smile.
She nodded. "Let me get you a cold compress."
As she ran two hand towels under cold water, she saw her hand trembling and tried to steady it. Her knuckles were raw and cracked, and she opened and closed her fist painfully. As she walked back to him she shook her hand, but the shaking continued.
She cleaned the blood from his nose and a place on his cheek where the skin had split open. He stared at her as she concentrated and tried to be as gentle as possible. Then she placed the clean towel on his cheek and he closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. She held the towel there, and he felt the coolness of it penetrating the pain, alleviating it if only momentarily. She was bent over awkwardly and as she moved the towel over to his other cheek she straddled his lap, getting a better angle.
They sat like that for awhile and when she finished with the compress, she grazed his lips with hers so tenderly that she wasn't certain if they had actually touched. "I'll run upstairs and get you some aspirin." But before she could get up, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight to him. He pressed his lips against hers and opened her mouth with his. And it hurt like hell, but he just kissed her harder. Because it least he was feeling something, and who knew when he would again.
She pulled away, "Jack?"
He didn't answer, just pulled her too him and found her mouth again. He stood up and she wrapped her legs around him. He carried her to the bed and she felt his comforting weight on her, and they both gave in and held each other tight, like this moment would have to carry them through the foreseeable future.
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She walked him out to the blue civic. He had wanted her to stay inside, but she had insisted. "Gotta try out the new hair sometime." She had said.
They stood at the car, neither of them had any idea what to say. Jacks hands were empty, he had left his luggage inside. Didn't really have a use for it now and how would he explain it to the police? He stuck them in his pockets, not knowing what else to do with them.
"Tell Beth I said thanks." He said finally.
"Kate smiled, "Ill let her know." She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight.
When they both broke away, he kissed her quick and looked at her hard. "You know I'm in love with you, right?"
Tears stung in her eyes and she blinked them back. She nodded, "I know." And then the tears were streaming, it was no use trying to stop them.
He brushed the tears from under her cheeks with both palms. "Okay." He said and reached for the car door. He stopped just short of the handle. "I almost forgot." He said. Reaching into his pockets he pulled out a slip of paper that she recognized from the pad by the phone. "Heres everything, all my numbers and my address. The address of the hospital, even my friend Mark's number."
She took the list and looked at it. "Jack, all of this is traceable, it might be difficult."
"I know, but its all I have right now." He shrugged.
She nodded. "It will work, I'll find a way."
"Bye." He said, opening the door and sliding in.
"Bye." She said and she watched him pull out of the driveway and drive down the street.
He headed south west, toward the California Mexico border. He would turn himself in there, and soon she would head east, trying to throw them off any trail that they might infer from Jack's location.
As he drove away from her, the landscape changed. The pine trees and crisp air of Flagstaff melted into the red rocky structures of Sedona, to the dry heat of the open Arizona desert. The further he got from her, the emptier and uglier it seemed, until finally he was in the unforgiving expanse of El Centro California.