Phone Calls
Part 2: Afterlife
Jack Bauer was a man of action. For the last decade or so of his life he had moved from one crisis to the next: betrayals by friends, the death of his wife, arrests, and on and on leaving little time for him to sit down and contemplate his feelings.
Until he had "died." Now he had all the time in the world to think about things and he found himself surprised at some of the places his thoughts took him.
For the first few weeks of his "afterlife" all he could think about was Audrey. He thought over everything that happened and realized that he couldn't have done anything different, or rather he wouldn't of. He did what he had to do and Audrey could not accept that and that was really what ended their relationship. Not that he was blaming her, he understood why she had ended it, but he wouldn't blame himself, not this time. The truth was that if she loved him she would have understood that what he had to do effected him deeply and stayed with him forever. He didn't enjoy hurting her; he didn't enjoy what his actions did to others, or to his own usually somewhat disturbed psyche.
Audrey would never understand that.
In fact the only person who seemed to even remotely understand him was Chloe. At the time he had been so shocked by her comment that she was willing to listen to him if he needed her. It wasn't that it was strange for Chloe to say, although really it was, what was strange was his realization that Chloe was usually the person who listened to him. In the dead of night as they waited for the next crisis she would listen intently as he vented. Then she would tell him that he had only done what he had to. That he shouldn't blame himself. That he did what everyone else was too afraid to do.
She had faith in him…faith she proved when she had put herself on the line and lost her job for him.
He found himself thinking of Chloe more and more everyday. She would creep into his mind when he least expected it. Sometimes he could even hear her sarcastic reply to his own thoughts—running like a constant commentary in his mind.
Unfortunately, as he said he had plenty of time on his hands. And with that time he began to think about the unique Ms. Chloe O'Brien and some of his thoughts went unexpected places. He couldn't seem to get over the unbelievable fear that he felt when she was under fire. The anger he felt because she had been sent out when she wasn't prepared, that the team with her hadn't protected her the way that they should have. He hated feeling helpless as he waited for hope to arrive, knowing he couldn't get to her in time.
But as usual Chloe surprised him—keeping calm in a situation beyond anything she had ever experienced and saving herself and their informant.
During one of his Chloe-centered moments he wished that he could call and check on her. Just hear her voice and make sure that she was okay. And then he realized that he could. Why not? It was 12 am LA time and he didn't need long—less than a minute to hear her say…
"Hello." The quietly groggy voice answered the phone.
"Hello." This time louder and more insistent.
"Hello." Her annoyance flowed through the phone lines, making him smile as she gave one last irritated sigh and a quick, "Whatever," as she hung up.
He promised he wouldn't call her again. Then he promised only to call once in a while, once every two weeks, not more than three times a week. Soon the only way he could stop himself from calling her every night was because he worried that she would call the cops on him. He wasn't really sure why she didn't. It was the intelligent thing to do and Chloe was, if nothing else, always doing the intelligent thing. Could it be that she knew it was him? That somehow she sensed him.
He told himself that was ridiculous and realized that the phone calls would have to stop. One last call and that was it.
As he picked up the phone he didn't even bother to check the time. Which was good because 3am was late even for a late-night phone call.
He heard the phone picky up and the unhappy recipient of the call practically spit, "What?" into the phone.
He couldn't stop himself—the chuckle seemed to erupt from his throat without his consent. The moment it did time seem to stop. He heard her quick gasp. The swallowed "Ja.." as she stopped herself from calling his name. Knowing he had to get off before she said too much he slammed the cell phone shut, breaking their phone connection.
As he sat in his crappy apartment and watched infomercials crawl across his screen he wondered why he couldn't leave it all behind him. He had left his life, his girlfriend, his daughter, his friends, his job, his life behind and here he sat finally alone, safe and completely miserable. He hadn't really died, but he wasn't really living either.
But he couldn't go back. This was the only way—this was his life now, as crappy an existence as it might have been. And he certainly could not keep calling Chloe. His connection with her had to die the same way he did.
He told himself again that there would be no more calls. No more dwelling on his old life of what he had lost. And he wondered why his new life suddenly seemed like no life at all.