Chapter 6: Be All, End All

When Nattie awoke the next morning, she was lying on the couch. Jack still slept soundly with his head pillowed on her legs. She sat up, rubbed at the crick in her neck, and eased out from under him. She went off to the kitchen to make some coffee.

"Jack. Wake up sleepy head."

Jack stirred at the sweet sing-song voice that was calling him. He opened his eyes to find a pair that matched his own staring back at him.

A grip of terror and pain clutched his stomach. He saw himself and this beautiful young woman standing in an alley in NYC. She was already bloody and bruised from him beating her. She was begging and crying, but that only drove him on.

"Jack, please, I love him. We are getting married. And I am keeping this child."

"Like hell you are. You think that I'd let you bring that kind of disgrace to me?" He punched her in the face and she fell back against the wall.

She raised herself back up and brought her eyes to his. "You disgrace yourself more than I ever could."

He grabbed her by the throat and pushed her against the wall. He took the knife out of his coat pocket and put it in front of her face.

"…please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely." He said and stuck the blade between her ribs. The warm gush of her blood mixed with the choking sound that she made sent a giddy shiver up his spine.

"Ah, yes. Thinking back are we? Remembering the good ol' days?"

"Miranda?" Jack said. "I'm sorry…" His throat closed as Miranda brought a transparent hand to it.

"Sorry Jack? Awww...are you?" She laughed, a throaty sound. "How sweet. Too little too late I'm afraid." Miranda brought her cold lips to his cheek.

"Miranda..." he gasped out. "Please..."

"Well, since you asked so nicely." She laughed again. "Sound familiar Jackie-boy? You know, I was thinking just the other day about our childhood. What was that rhyme that Mother taught us as children? About Monday's child?" She placed a slim finger to her lips and thought.

"Oh well. Must not've been that important." She shrugged and squeezed his throat more.

He brought his hands to his neck and tried to pull her hands from his throat. Time after time his hands slipped through her substance-less arms. He felt the world go dark and heard the blood rushing in his ears.

"Jack! Dammit, let go!" Nattie was there, pulling his hands away from his throat. When they were free, he gasped for breath, the air racing to fill his burning lungs.

"Jesus. Are you ok? I mean, I know you're not but..." Nattie trailed off as she started to examine where he had choked himself. His face was an unusual shade of purplish red and bruises were already starting to form around his throat.

"What was happening just now?" Nattie whispered.

He closed his eyes against the pain and memories of what he had been. Of what he still was deep down. He shook his head in refusal. He wasn't that anymore. He wasn't.

His sister had just tried to kill him. No, not kill him. He couldn't die. She had done it to torture him.

"Jack, look at me." She placed her hands on each side of his face.

"Monday's child is fair of face. Tuesday's child is full of grace..."

"What are you saying? Come on sweetie. Look at me," she said, speaking as one might to a small child.

"Wednesday's child is full of woe. Thursday's child has far to go. Friday's child is loving and giving..."

Nattie ran to the kitchen and got a glass of water. "Drink this. Please..." He turned his head away and kept mumbling.

"Saturday's child works hard for his living. And the child that is born on the Sabbath day is bonny and blithe, and good and gay."

She ran the pad of her thumb over his bottom lip. "Please. Open your eyes."

He opened his eyes and fell into the golden depths of hers. He drew in a breath and brought a hand to his stinging throat.

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the couch.

"What was it? Were you--" Should she ask? "Were you remembering something? About how you..." Now she stopped.

He nodded and looked at her. "My sister." When her eyes widened in surprise he looked out the window.

"I had made a name for myself. Cheated my way into it mostly. She was a few years younger than me. I didn't really care about her anymore. Hadn't for a while. Not since our mother died. Anyway," he cleared his throat.

"She hooked up with this newsboy in New York. Fell in love, got pregnant, was going to get married. But..." He stopped.

"But because it would be a blemish on your reputation, you had her killed."

He laughed, but there was only sorrow in it.

"To have her killed would have cost money. No," he turned and looked her dead in the eye.

"I killed her myself. After I beat the hell out of her. I killed her in an alley next to a pile of garbage. Then I left her there." He ran a hand through his hair.

"Go on. Call me a monster, a sick bastard, whatever. I've heard it. I've been it. I killed my sister and her child because I didn't want anything to come between me and whatever pissy little goal I had set for myself." He laughed again, somewhat maniacally.

"Ironic I think. The next day my partner decided to cut me out of the business. Literally." He moved the blanket and showed her a scar that ran from just under his ribs on his left side to his right hip.

"So, what you're getting now is like, flashbacks?"

"Pretty much." He rubbed his temple. Each time he got a flash of memories it felt like friggin' bomb exploded in his cranium.

"Well, that's what we have to do then."

"And what's that?"

"We have to find a way to stop those flashbacks." She nodded to emphasize her point.

Jack just looked at her as if she was the biggest idiot he had ever come across. He was tired of crying at every turn. It bothered him that he cried so much yesterday. This last little episode had been the last straw. Now he was getting into the pissed-off sarcastic phase.

"Yeah. And why don't we just stop by the FDA and give them the cure to cancer while we're at it?"

"Look, if there is a way to stop them, and I can't believe I'm going to say this, but Gloria's sugar high X-files friends would know. Come on."

"Uh..." He held out the blanket, revealing his naked body clad only in black boxers with blue flames. "Maybe if I had my clothes back."

"We'll stop by your room."

-----

After Jack had gotten a shower and Nattie had called Gloria and told her to go back to her house, they got in Nattie's Jetta and set out for Gloria's.

Along with a few of his entourage.

"I can't believe you. I know you've killed more than 700 people, and yet you can't find the urge to kill this one woman?" Munder asked. "That's kinda sad. You can feel it can't you. Like an invisible force. Pulling your hands to her throat and squeezing. Go on man. Just kill her."

"It'll make you feel better." Dodge put in.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" Jack roared.

"Jesus!" Nattie slammed on the brakes and pulled over to the curb.

"I'm sorry. It just these two..."

"What two? Here?" She spun to look in the back seat. "There are two of them here? Now?"

He nodded.

"They're trying to make me crazy. I think they're succeeding."

He put his fingertips over his eyes and saw Munder's mangled body and Dodge's frightened and dying eyes, looking from his face to the bloodstain spreading across the front of his white t-shirt. Jack gritted his teeth and shook his head in attempt to clear it.

Nattie pulled the car into the spot in front of Gloria's building.

"We're here."

------

"Gloria? It's me. Open up."

"Hey. What's this about? You soun--" Gloria let the sentence die as she opened the door and saw Jack. "Nattie..."

"It's ok Gloria. Let us in."

Against her better judgment, Gloria stepped aside and let Natalia and Jack inside. She watched him warily.

"Gloria, we need your help. I need you to get in touch with that guy, the one who sent you the pictures. I need you to ask him what all he knows about Jack and who he works for." She held up a hand to stop Gloria's interruption. "I know this is a load Gloria, but I need you to trust me."

Gloria sighed. "I do trust you Nat. It's him I don't trust."

She glanced at Jack, who was sitting quietly on her sofa with his fingers pressed to his eyes. He looked almost pitiful. Gloria might have taken pity on him...if she hadn't known that he was old enough to be her great grandfather while looking like he could have gone to high school with her.

"Come on Gloria. Do this for me, please?" Nattie begged.

Gloria closed her eyes and sighed again. "Ok. I'll see what I can get. But I'm not going to promise anything."

Without warning, Jack rose from the couch and walked to the front door.

"Where are you going?" Nattie asked.

"Um, I have to go out. I need a walk. No," he said as she started toward him. "You stay here with your friend and do what you're going to do. I'll be alright. I'm going to be in my room. Come and find me there." He nodded to Gloria and left without another word.

---------

Three hours later, Gloria and Nattie sat in front of Gloria's computer. They both had headaches.

"So basically, what we know is that in order to stop Jack's flashbacks, the manager of Hell has to agree to turn them off? Either that, or a trade." Gloria stated.

"A trade..." Nattie said, thinking. "Thanks so much Gloria. You are great." She kissed her friend on her cheek and started gathering her stuff.

"So, what's the plan? What're we going to do?"

Nattie hesitated. "Well, right now I'm just going to go see Jack. Kinda fill him in, ya know. Talk later."

With that, she rushed out the door.

------

Back inside his hotel room, Jack lay facing his tormentors. One by one they came to him, taunting, hurting, abusing him. His sanity. His newly reacquired soul.

It had been hours since he left Natalia at Gloria's. He wanted to call her. To make sure she was ok. To know if she had found anything to make this living hell cease to be.

------

Nattie sat in the circle surrounded by candles. She didn't like this, but she had to do it. It was worth it. No one deserved the pain and misery that she had seen in Jack a few hours earlier. All she had to do was sit down and talk with this Dennis guy, trade off, and that'd be that.

She poured the foul smelling mixture into the vial and set it over the candle. She recited the incantation and waited.

Appearing in a tunnel of blue flame was a man that appeared to be in his mid 30s. His green eyes shone with a supernatural light. His dark hair was turning prematurely gray around the temples, giving him a distinguished look.

"You rang? Oh my..." He leaned down to where Nattie was sitting in the circle. "A pure soul. I can smell you from all the way over here. Vile."

He waved his hand.

"What do you want child? This isn't a cell phone you know."

He motioned to the candles and summoning spell. Looking closer at her, he smiled a wickedly charming smile.

"I know you," he said. "You're Natalia. Ferriman's assignment." He chuckled. "And how is our lovely little Jack these days? Has he had any unexpected guests?"

"I'm here to offer you a trade." Nattie said. "To stop Jack's flashbacks and make the souls of his victims leave him alone."

"A trade? And what would be in it for me, precious?" Dennis asked.

Nattie swallowed and took a deep breath. "My soul."

Dennis straightened. "Come again?"

"If you stop those lost souls from tormenting Jack, and stop his flashbacks from the things he's done, then I'll take his place and be a Soul Collector."

"How very bold of you cupcake. However, it doesn't work that way."

"It can."

"Yes, well. Only if I want it to. And you see, you have a pure soul. Which means that you'd be a bigger pain in the ass than Ferriman. Besides," he continued. "He is still the same deep down. It'll take a few days to get past the initial shock of being capable of feeling again, what with the crying and anger and all that, soon enough he'll be back to his old murderous self and we'll give him his old job back. He just needed this little lesson."

He leaned down and raised Nattie's chin. "So, don't worry your pretty little head."

"I think you're wrong."

Dennis studied this young woman. She would certainly have a nice advantage in manipulating people. Maybe he could work her stupid hero complex to his advantage.

"I'll tell you what. If you spot your soul up nice and dirty, then I'll take you and make Mr. Ferriman's flashbacks go bye-bye."

It's no skin off my nose. He'll be back inside of a week anyway.

"Fine. What do I have to do?"

"Well you know...murder an innocent, rob a charity, something along those lines."

"Um, isn't there a rather large difference between those?" she asked dryly.

He glanced at her, read her mind and searched until he found what he needed. Then he shrugged and studied his fingernail.

"It is all rather diversified really. Hell, some people can simply act on lust and boop! They're in. Here's where you can reach me. It's a hell of a lot easier than all this," he said waving at the candles.

"Morgan, Davis and Stalanski? A law firm?" Nattie asked.

"What else?" Dennis replied, and with a flick of his wrist, he was consumed by a tunnel of flame.

Act on lust. Nattie tucked the business card into her pocket and cleaned up her candles. She then went upstairs to prepare.

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