Chloe felt like she was wrapped in a fog. She couldn't see clearly, she couldn't hear clearly, and the mug of hot tea in her hand felt like it was attached to someone else's arm. All she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and sleep until the memories went away. Just collapse until she couldn't hear the screaming, the crying, the yelling, or the pleading anymore. Until there was nothing left but silence.
She had tried, God knows, she had tried. But every time she approached her bed she'd remember her last night in it. The last night she had considered, however briefly, letting someone else in, letting someone care for her and maybe allowing herself to care back. The last night she had felt safe in her own home, or at her office. The last night when most of her friends were alive instead of dead. The last night before the lies she had spent the last year and a half of her life protecting at the cost of her own soul came crashing down.
The sofa wasn't as comfortable, but at least it didn't haunt her. That's what the nightmares were for. Her sleep was erratic, and finally Chloe had to given up on it.
She had tried to go back to work, that first day after, but after a few hours of her increasing agitation and frustration, Buchanan had cornered her.
"Chloe, we're all as worried about Jack as you are, but you can't help him if you're going on like this. We're all trying to help, so why don't you take a step back and let us. Take a day or two off and just walk away from it for awhile."
Buchanan's words echoed in her head. Suddenly unable to stay still, Chloe sprang off of her sofa, spilling her tea on her hand as she slammed it down on the coffee table. She didn't even feel the burn as she began frantically pacing her apartment. "…as worried about Jack as you are…" They had no idea, Chloe fumed, no idea what it meant to worry about Jack. To never be absolutely certain where he was or who he was with; who might be following him, or who might have found the flaw in their carefully crafted deception. For the last year and a half she had worried about him, and watched his back. She had lied to friends and family, people who respected and trusted her, and for what? Just so the Chinese could just waltz off with him?
Before she knew what she was doing, she had picked up the mug and hurled it at the wall. The crisp shatter snapped Chloe out of her daze, and she stood, shaking as the tea dripped down the wall and formed a spreading puddle on the floor.
Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit! Chloe cursed as she crossed to the kitchen for a paper towel. If I don't get a grip, I'll never get back to CTU.
The thought was sobering. She had talked to a few of the other survivors of the gas attack, and a lot of them were requesting transfers or even considering quitting CTU altogether. Even a few of the people who had made it out in time, or had just been transferred in as replacements afterwards were considering leaving. There was a palpable air of fear and uncertainty on the floor, and Chloe had felt it, too, but she couldn't imagine not going back. CTU was her life, as pathetic as that sounded, and she couldn't abandon it now. She didn't blame those who were leaving, she understood. In fact, she remembered a similar exodus after the Chandler Hotel incident, and she remembered that after CTU had been bombed Michelle said…
Chloe allowed the thought to trail off as she slowly mopped up the tea. Of all the thoughts she didn't want to dwell on, memories of Michelle, Tony, Edgar, President Palmer, Lynn McGill, and all the other people she knew and had watched die were at the top of the list. It was too raw, too painful, and Chloe was too exhausted to go down that road again, she knew what would happen. She had already broken down once; crying so hard her sides still ached. She hadn't felt so alone since, well, since ever.
She was picking up the shards of broken pottery, trying to keep her thoughts in line when a knock at the door jolted her out of her reverie. Chloe froze, unsure what to do. She knew she didn't want to see anyone; she knew she was a mess, pajama bottoms, tank top, robe, red eyes, tangled hair. For a brief moment, she feared it was the Chinese, or more of Henderson's people, coming for her and her heart stopped; but that thought was dismissed as soon as it surfaced. Still her eyes darted over to the desk drawer where she had hidden a gun.
The knock was repeated, and this time a voice called through the door.
"Chloe, its Chase. Let me in."
Can't be. Please, I can't do this again.
Everything around Chloe grayed out for a moment, and she began to lose her balance. She hastily put a hand on the floor to steady herself. Unfortunately, it landed squarely on a jagged piece of the shattered mug. Unable to stop herself, she let out a yelp of pain, and immediately clapped her uninjured hand over her mouth, praying she hadn't been heard.
"Chloe, are you in there?" A pause. She remained silent.
Why is he here? Does he know? Did someone tell him?
Chloe's heart pounded with fear and guilt as she continued to crouch, holding her bleeding hand. All the lies she had told began to repeat over and over in her head, damning her. She hadn't seen Chase in months, and it hadn't even occurred to her to call him to explain. The thought of doing so now was almost nauseating.
The silence stretched into minutes and Chloe began to relax. She quickly walked to the kitchen and began running water over her injured hand. It was deeper than she had thought, and she was debating going to a doctor to see if she needed stitches when her cell phone rang. Putting another paper towel in her fist and balling it to keep the pressure on, she walked over to her desk and absently picked up the phone, flipping it open and putting it to her ear in a single, fluid motion.
"O'Brien."
"I know about Jack, Chloe. Open the damn door or I will."
Chase ended the call without another word, and Chloe heard a single knock on her door. There was another pause, and then two knocks. Chloe sprinted across her apartment, unwilling to explain to her super about what happens after three knocks.
She unlocked and opened the door, and Chase walked inside. He didn't wait for an invitation, but simply passed her as he crossed the room and sat on the couch.
She stood at the door for another moment after she closed and re-locked it, unwilling to turn around, afraid to see his eyes. She didn't know what she would find there. Anger? Betrayal? Disappointment?
She thought the last would be the worst. They had been friends for so long; to have Chase feel like she let him down would be crushing. When they had met in DC, he had been the only person who was patient with her. He had been the only field agent who didn't routinely snap at her, or automatically take her often brutal honesty for an insult. When he applied for a transfer to LA, it was he who suggested she might want to go too, to be closer to her family and where she grew up. She hadn't even realized he knew where she was from. And after the move, she knew it was largely his influence that kept her on, no matter how frustrated Jack got, or how tired Tony was of having to mediate her disputes with Adam. He was her friend, one of the few she had counted on.
And she had lied to him for eighteen months. She had told him lies that had cost him more than she could ever imagine.
"Are you going to turn around and look at me, Chloe, or are you going to stand there all day?"
"Do I have a choice?"
There was a soft sigh, "Chloe, please?"
She turned slowly, looking at the floor. Eventually she raised her eyes and met his.
"God, you look terrible." He stated.
"Been a long day. Couple of days, really."
"I heard."
"I guessed."
The silence stretched as Chloe remained at her door way. She couldn't read Chase's expression; he was keeping a mask firmly in place. It worried her. Finally she moved away from the door way, crossing to the chair opposite the couch. She sat slowly, cradling her injured hand in her lap.
Chase noticed it, and gestured. "What happened there?"
Chloe shrugged, and waved her good hand in the direction of the wall. "Picked a fight with a mug, I think it won."
Shaking his head with a small chuckle, Chase stood and crossed to the small bathroom, "Kit's still under the sink?"
Chloe answered in the affirmative and watched as Chase pulled out the small first-aid box and returned to the living area. He set the opened kit on the floor and kneeled in front of Chloe, taking her wounded hand in his. The whole thing felt surreal to Chloe. There was an odd detachment in the way he carefully removed the paper towel from the cut and quickly examined it. It was still bleeding sluggishly, but the worst had stopped. Keeping her hand in one of his he rummaged around in the small kit. "I'll wrap this for you for now, but you probably should get a few stitches later on."
"OK," Chloe replied, not trusting herself to say any more.
Chase found some antiseptic wipes, antibacterial gel, a few gauze squares and a small roll of gauze and proceeded to carefully clean, treat and, wrap the would with an efficiency that bespoke years of experience. He did it all in silence, stopping only once when the antiseptic stung the wound. When he was finished, he repacked the kit and returned it to the bathroom, and came back, taking his former seat across from Chloe.
His expression was still unreadable, as he sat across from her, waiting for her to speak. Chloe couldn't meet his eyes; she just stared at her bare feet on the floor. Terrified that anything she said would make things worse, she opted for silence.
Chase finally looked away from Chloe, turning his head to look out the window. "Do I even get to ask what really happened? Or is this going to be buried?"
Taking a shaky breath, Chloe started, "Jack found out he was going to be killed. At first, he just wanted Tony to help him get out so he could turn himself into the Chinese directly to avoid the assassin. But Tony told him to just run, run and disappear, but Jack figured if he did that, the Chinese might go after you and Kim-" Chloe winced and snuck a glance at Chase.
He turned to her with a wan smile, "Who do you think told me he was alive, Chloe?"
Chloe almost wasn't sure she heard him right. Kim called…Chase? Of all people, Kim Bauer had been the one to tell Chase the truth. It made a depressing kind of sense when Chloe thought about it. Who else? Chase didn't really have any friends at CTU anymore who would call. Tony and Michelle were dead, and who else but Kim would know what the news would mean to him?
Chase continued to look at Chloe, his expression indefinable, "She didn't want me hearing any wild rumors." A bitter chuckle escaped his throat as Chase continued, looking out the window again, "Not that the truth seems tame by comparison, but still. I think she just wanted to get used to saying it out loud, like it wouldn't be real if she didn't. And I guess she figured everyone else would be too busy cleaning up to bother letting me in on the joke." There was a slight pause, "She told me about Michelle and Tony, too. Are you OK, Chlo?"
"No, but I'm still alive. That's more than most people today."
Chase nodded, and allowed the silence to draw out again. Finally, Chloe decided she couldn't take it anymore, "I'm sorry, Chase, we should have-"
"Don't Chlo. Part of me gets it, really." Chloe watched as Chase stood and crossed to her window, looking out. Chloe could see the hollows under his eyes and idly wondered if he had been crying. "Someone was after him, and he wanted to protect us- I get that, but what I don't get is why we weren't told later." Chase turned to face Chloe, "Why didn't you, or anyone, tell us afterwards? Were you afraid we couldn't keep the secret?"
"No, Chase, we didn't-"
"Did you think we'd turn him in?"
"God, Chase- no, but-"
"Well what was it, then, Chloe? There had to be something."
Tears stung Chloe's eyes as she tried to find the right words. "I wanted to, we all wanted to, Chase. Kim was in so much pain," Chloe saw Chase flinch and turn back to the window, "and so were you, but we couldn't. We almost did, but we didn't."
"I asked you why, Chloe. Do you have an answer or not?"
Chloe's mind drifted back to the day she ended up at Tony's and Michelle's, determined to let them know she was telling Chase and Kim the truth, and before she realized what she was doing she was talking. Telling the whole story to Chase, sneaking Jack out of CTU, her panic at finding out how bad things were getting with Kim, everything Tony and Michelle had said, everything she had said- to Tony, to Chase, to Kim, even some of her conversations with Jack. The truth poured out of Chloe in a rush of tears and panic, a year and a half's worth of worry and regret, pain and loathing.
At some point, Chase returned to the couch, his eyes fixed on Chloe's face, unmoving. When she finally finished with Jack's capture, Chloe's eyes met his, desperate for some sign, any sign, that Chase might have understood. But there was nothing. He blinked once, twice, and finally a third time before he spoke, "I want to hate you, Chloe."
Chloe's head dropped and the tears she had been fighting began to well up anew.
"I really want to hate you," Chase continued, his eyes still fixed on Chloe. "Forget the face that Jack was alive all this time, you just told me you knew we were being watched and followed and you didn't say anything. My family was being watched in our home, Chloe. I thought the woman I love- the woman I loved was going nuts, and I made a decision based on that, and you knew she was right. I could've, well I don't know, but I could've done something. Jesus, maybe we could have joined him, I don't know, but dammit, Chloe, that was our decision to make!" Chase stood again and began pacing in front of the couch.
"And I want to hate you for that, I really do. But I can't." Chloe raised her head again and watched as Chase continued to pace. "I can't hate you, because you were just the messenger- I should hate him. I think I do. Damn him to hell, I can't believe he'd do this to us!"
"Chase-" Chloe began, but she was cut off.
"Don't defend him, Chlo, he made a decision. It was his. He wanted to be cut-off, you cut him off. He wanted to lie to us, so you did it for him. We've all lied for him at some point or another, why would you be any different?" Chase sunk back into the couch, rubbing his eyes with his hand before looking at Chloe again. "I can't hate you and I don't, this whole situation wasn't your fault."
"I'm sorry," Chloe whispered.
"I know." Chase answered.
A moment passed and Chase spoke again, "Do you have any leads?"
"Yes and no, two ships left port after Jack was taken, one bound for South America and the other China. We kinda doubt he's on the South American one." Chase laughed weakly and Chloe continued, "We're doing everything we can, but it's complicated."
"When is it ever not with Jack?" Chase shook his head ruefully and stood, "You look tired, and you really should get your hand checked out. I just wanted to- I just wanted to hear it from you, Kim was kinda vague on a few things, and I didn't feel right to pressing her for details."
Chase began to walk toward the door and turned back, "Chloe?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm angry. With you, in part, but mostly with him. But if you need anything, I'm still here. We're still family."
Chloe managed a weak smile, "I'm OK, or I will be. Chase, I really am sorry."
"So am I."
Chloe watched her friend leave without another word. After he was gone, she finished picking up the shards of pottery on the floor, and sat back on her couch. She thought she would cry, but the tears didn't come and after a few minutes she stood and headed to the bathroom.
She would shower, get something to eat, and go back to work. She had a job to do, and she was done walking away.