Chapter 10: The Cherchez La Femme

THURSDAY

Jack's Apartment

They were in Jack's bed, only a sheet covering them, as he felt Jack's body move against his as he was waking up. Fear shot through him as he thought that Jack might tell him to get up and leave. He didn't want to leave. Then he felt his leg move against his as his arms held him tighter. A kiss was placed on his shoulder, then his chest, as his hand caressed the left side of his ribs. The fear didn't go away even though he felt comfortable. He wanted to be comfortable. He wanted to breathe easier. He wanted to feel that he could be himself with Jack. That Will Tippin could be, and was, enough.

He wanted to believe Jack's words. That Jack would be there to catch him. That he would keep him safe. That he would protect and love him when there wasn't anyone else there.

As he listened to Jack get out of bed and head to the bathroom, his words replayed in his head. He didn't know why there was always doubt. Always fear of being left and abandoned. It could have been that whenever he felt ready to expose himself to the person he wanted to be with and who he loved, another heartbreak. Another let down. He was always falling in love with people who didn't love him back.

He wanted desperately to get out of that fear and doubt but it was suffocating at times. It was always there, underneath everything, ready to take control and make him act stupid and reckless. Make him say something too soon and too fast. Words like "I love you" after only knowing someone for a few short weeks even though that was exactly what he felt.

Jack had told him he wasn't afraid of love, but he didn't tell him he loved him in return. Was that because he didn't feel the same or because at the moment Jack didn't, or couldn't, say the same? Was he so afraid of losing Jack that he wanted to try and force this upon him? Was that why? Why did he have to doubt himself so much?

What was wrong with him?

He heard Jack return to the room and slid back in bed. The arms that wrapped around him again felt so nice. So warm and familiar. He realized that the man in his arms was who brought the sense of familiarity. Despite the few short weeks, he felt he knew Jack. Had known him for years. That was stupid. Another desperate attempt to lie to himself that this meant something more than it did. A lie that Jack was being honest when he could have been using him.

But what Jack had said Monday night had sounded like love. He didn't say those words but it'd been there. In the subtext, between the lines. The unspoken words on his lips and what was in his head had been love. Wasn't it? Or was that another lie to keep him guessing, to keep him believing until he dropped him?

He had to be sure. He had to know. Jack was resting his head on his chest, he could feel his breath against his skin. It was calm, and even, and with each breath he was getting more scared, more afraid, that something was going to go wrong.

He opened his eyes and saw the light from the building next door stream in through the window, splitting the darkness of the room in two. In the light, he could see how comfortable he laid across the top of his body. He'd been in that position all night, ever since Sydney left and he'd crawled into bed. He knew something was wrong, that something had changed inside and was bothering him. Jack wasn't the only one who could read people.

He moved his hand over his back, feeling the scar tissue of a burn mark. Was today the day he would ask those questions? The ones that couples could ask about in the quietude of a bedroom?

"So, you know how I was watching 'Bullitt' last night? Before, I never really understood what Cathy meant when she told Bullitt that his world was so far from the one she knew. You could feel her desperation to get to really know this man that she loved...Like when he's all like, "Go to sleep", and she's upset because he won't talk to her and he says, "It's not for you" and then she says "Anything you do is a part of me." That was such great dialogue, you know for the '70's...I guess what I'm trying to say is that I know that your world is so far from my own, and that's okay. You don't have to tell me anything, but I'm here if you do." When Jack didn't say anything after a couple seconds, Will felt his chest clench before he said, "I'm just wondering what it is about me. I mean, why?"

Jack turned his head and rested his chin on his chest. Staring up at him, he said, "Will, there's a lot that I don't think is…"for you" yet. But if you're asking me if I feel the same about you as you do for me, and why, all I can tell you is that it's not an easy question for me to answer."

"Why isn't it easy?" he asked. Was it because Jack had no answer because this was all for fun. Another way to keep score?

"I'm not going to give you a list of reasons that only amount to personality quirks or traits that most everyone exhibits because, quite frankly, none of those things would be adequate enough-"

Will squeezed his shoulders tighter as he said, "Take a breath. I wasn't expecting a list from you. All I want to hear is whatever answer you come up with. As long as it's the truth, I'm fine with whatever you have to tell me. Relax, and if you need a minute, or a day, to think about it, I can wait."

He could wait for the truth. Would he even believe it if he heard it? Or would that fear and intimidation that Jack had been talking about prevent him from taking it in and being okay with it? Jack had been right. He was intimidated. Intimidated by Jack's strength and his sturdiness. The sense of calm and patience that he exhibited. Will was afraid of losing himself in his presence. He was afraid to expose how weak he felt and truly was. But Jack had told him that he already knew, hadn't he?

Jack had told him he would hold him and he had done just that. And now he really was trying to protect him. Actions spoke louder than words and so far Jack's actions spoke volumes. He wasn't a man to back down from anything. He wouldn't leave him alone and stranded and broken. He wouldn't do that to him. He wouldn't.

"I'll answer your question but first I want you to answer mine. I want to know who it was. Who caused you to lose confidence in yourself?"

Will felt his eyes well at that question. He knew. Jack said he could read him, but damn. Why was he still there then if he knew him so well? He was so insignificant, worthless, and Jack knew this but still wanted him there. He couldn't see how.

"Your parents?" Jack asked.

At the thought of his parents, he nearly snapped at him in anger, "My parents were wonderful. They loved me and now, thinking back on it, I realized I probably had no need to hide myself from them. They would've accepted me. I didn't let them know that I also liked guys. I dated girls all through high school. They didn't know."

"They knew. Parents always know."

Will wondered about Jack's parents. Did they know about their son?

"A girlfriend? Boyfriend?"

Will tensed and he knew that alone had given Jack his answer. Of course it'd been a boyfriend. "You're right about me," he said. "I want to be taken care of. I've wanted that for a long time. And I met someone I thought would do that. It was right after my parents died, and I just wanted..." Jack lifted his head and rested his chin on his chest as his hand continued to caress over his chest, easing his tension. It felt good. It steadied him. "I never felt more insignificant than I did when I was with him. It wasn't like that at first but that was what it turned into. Have you ever felt that way? Like your entire relationship with someone was a lie?"

Jack stared at him as he told him, "I have."

"Seriously? I mean, who could've possibly-"

"My ex-wife."

His eyes widened as he said, "You were married?"

Jack placed his face to his chest and he could feel a smile on his lips before he kissed it. The smile faded before he said, "She died twenty years ago."

"I'm sorry," he said as he closed his eyes against the press of another kiss to his chest.

"I'm not," Jack honestly told him.

And Will knew it was honest. Who would say that about the death of a wife if they weren't being honest?

"She had been deceitful and lied to me our entire marriage. Granted, I was lying to myself my entire marriage, but I was never unfaithful. Never once did I lie to her. She knew...I told her before we dated that I was questioning my sexuality. She didn't care."

He was rambling. Will had never heard Jack ramble before, or speak this much about his life. This was a gift, he thought. Or a trick. Shaking his head, he fought down the lies that plagued his mind as he told himself that they were lies. His mind was lying to him. Jack wasn't tricking him. He wasn't.

Letting out a deep breath, he said, "I don't know how you married her even though you knew...That had to be hard, for the both of you."

"I was in denial for years. I was under the misguided belief that my masculinity was intertwined with my sexuality. I thought, if I was gay, then...I wasn't a man. My father had been someone-I wanted his acceptance more than anything, and I knew that if he knew then he would never love or accept me in return. By fearing his rejection, I feared myself. Hated myself. I thought I was a disappointment. I thought something was wrong with me. I held onto that belief for a very long time."

Will felt his body stiffen at those words. It wasn't what was said, but how Jack spoke those words. The truth and pain he heard in his voice startled him. He exhaled as he asked, "What helped you realize that nothing was wrong with you?"

"Several things," Jack said matter-of-factly. "For one, I grew to no longer care what my father thought. Another was that after I learned of my wife's betrayals, after she died, I lost myself. I didn't know who I was anymore. I knew I had to face myself in order to move on..." he swallowed hard against his body and Will sighed and closed his eyes.

He could feel Jack's loss and the pain in his chest when he admitted all of that. He wondered if Jack had spoken that truth out to anyone else. Jack had told him that he wanted to make him feel at home. That he wanted-

Tears slipped from his eyes as a lump formed in his throat as he realized that Jack wanted him to be his home.

"That's when I had my first sexual encounter with a man. That really helped."

He chuckled through the tears and was so glad Jack couldn't actually see him as he asked, "How'd it go?"

"Violently," Jack said quietly, like he'd been ashamed.

"It was violent?"

"I hit the guy." Jack sighed and shifted against him.

He didn't know if he was getting uncomfortable or was regretting opening up to him. Jack could've been realizing how much he was talking and decided to stop. Will placed his hand on his back, trying to let him know he could keep him anchored and settled if he needed him to.

It must have helped because Jack let out a shaky breath and said, "I saw myself in him and I got angry."

"Ouch. Oh, man. How did you end up going from hitting him to..."

"Well, he must have realized my dilemma. Or, I told him my dilemma. I really don't remember what I said, but I remember what he said. He told me that who I loved didn't dictate whether or not I was a man, but it was how I loved. I had been honest and devoted to my ex in every way possible. I gave everything I had, not because I had to, but...because I wanted to. I loved her. It was that simple. I realized that I would always be that man. That wasn't going to change. I'm a logical man, maybe too logical, things have to add up for me to understand it. Once I heard those words, I understood and it was easier for me to accept who I was."

Will listened to those words as he fought to make his mind add up the truth in what he heard. Would Jack be telling him all this if his love for him was a lie? Did his words and his actions equal love? And could he believe that? Did he have the strength to believe it?

He felt Jack lift his hand off his chest and he missed the warmth before he felt his fingers on his face. He felt Jack's thumbs wipe away the tears before he leaned down and kissed him. Moaning into the kiss, Will rolled them over and kept going until he was on top of Jack's body.

Staring down into his eyes, he told him, "That's where we differ. Love, for me, isn't based on logic. It's emotional. I'm warning you right now, Jack, I can be highly irrational sometimes."

"I've noticed, Cathy."

Will chuckled as he shook his head. "Yeah, sorry about that. I hit panic mode."

Jack stared up at him as he told him, "Since we're being honest. You need to know that I can be possessive and overprotective. I protect those I love and I'll sacrifice everything for them. There's nothing I wouldn't do, even if it comes at the expense of my own happiness."

"I would never ask you to sacrifice-"

"I know you wouldn't," Jack said, cutting him off. "It's, it's what I do when-...when I love someone."

"And...you're being that way with me."

Will was pretty good at adding things up himself. Based on everything he'd told him, and his actions, it meant Jack loved him even though he didn't say it. Jack was right, for him, it hadn't been an easy question for him to answer. He leaned down and rested his head on Jack's chest. Please, he begged himself, please don't stop believing those words. Will felt a hand run through his hair and a few seconds later the alarm went off.

Jack cursed and slapped it off.

Will looked at the time and said, "You wake up at 4:00 in the morning?"

"I have to have time to shower, shave, make breakfast-"

"Read the paper twice."

Jack didn't move to get up though as he kept his hand threaded through his hair. "Will, for the first time in an extremely long time, I want to actually consider my own happiness. You've made me do a lot of reconsidering about my life and what it can be."

He did that? Was that even possible? He lifted his head and stared at Jack in confusion. Just the thought that he caused Jack to rethink his life shocked him. That couldn't be a lie, could it? He grabbed Jack by the back of the neck and pulled him up into a deep, long, kiss. Jack's hands twisted in his hair as his nails stratched over Jack's neck and shoulders, inciting a hiss and moan. He'd learned by now that Jack sometimes, if not oftentimes, liked it rough.

Will gave himself over to whatever Jack wanted because he felt safe enough to let him take control. He was safe with him. He was protected. Jack did love him. It was with absolute certainty that he knew that to be true.

He didn't deserve it. But, he'd take it.


SD-6

Jack knocked on the door to Sloane's office before opening it. Sticking his head inside, he asked, "Got a minute?"

"Of course." Sloane turned away from the computer to give him his undivided attention while he shut the door behind him and sat down.

"Mr. Tippin went to the police with evidence that Julian Sark murdered Antonio Lafayette."

Sloane leaned back in the chair and studied him as he said, "You told me you were handling it, Jack. Did you underestimate Mr. Tippin?"

"I didn't. Julian Sark did. He detonated a bomb in the middle of downtown Los Angeles. His actions are what attracted the attention of the FBI as well as what pushed Tippin to the point of having no other choice than to go to the police. What I want to know is why he's not being treated as a security risk? He's committed two reckless acts on the American soil-"

"One of which, if not both, are your fault."

Jack worked his jaw as he stared over at Sloane. If he thought he was going to spin this to blame him, he really didn't know him very well. "Neither was my fault, but it seems like I'm the only one willing to take any responsibility and action in order to rectify the situation from spiraling out of control. You sent Lafayette to kill me and that was what caused all of this. If anyone's to blame, it's you. I understand the stress that you were under during that time-"

"Don't you dare throw Emily's suffering and death-"

"I will if I think it's why your judgement's being compromised."

Sloane seemed to not like that he was being called out of his obvious mistake in enacting that course of action. He made the wrong move, and had inadvertently, caused himself to be the one close to losing the game. Jack wondered if Sloane's growing obsession with his daughter was what was driving him to make brutal errors in his judgement, along with the stress and grief.

"Arivn," Jack said, continuing his line of reasoning and thought, "Sark jeopardized the relationship I'd been building over the last three weeks. Instead of trusting me, Tippin's now in hiding and I can't find him. He ditched his cell phone and hasn't been seen since by any of his family or friends since Monday morning. Then Tuesday afternoon, he resurfaced at the Los Angeles County police department only to disappear again."

"He needs to be dealt with-"

"I agree. You need to alert Security Section about Sark-"

"I wasn't talking about Sark."

He stared over at him as he closed his eyes and shook his head. "That's not the right course of action. The FBI could've taken Mr. Tippin into protective custody-"

Sloane turned in the chair and leaned forward on the desk as he told him, "Find out if they have and deal with it."

"You mean kill him? I have other contingencies if you'll get Sark under control-"

"Tell me something. How did Will Tippin, a reporter, disappear without a trace from a professional SD-6 agent like Julian Sark?"

Jack stared at him as he said, "Ask Sark. I was 25,000 feet in the air when it happened."

"So you're saying if we check your phone records there won't be a call made to you after the time of the explosion."

"Check the phone records."

"You know as well as I do that phone records can be forged."

Jack pulled out his STU (Secure Telephone Unit) cell phone and placed it on the desk. "There would be a signal from either a cell tower or a satellite recorded on my SIM card's memory chip if I had received a call while on the plane. Take it-"

"Jack-"

"Take it!," he snapped as he placed it on the desk. "Then be done with it because I'm getting tired of these baseless accusations!"

Sloane didn't make a move to take the phone. If he was offering it up as evidence then Sloane knew he wouldn't find anything.

Preparedness and the fact that he was as precautious as he was, Jack had two cell phones. His work STU cell phone that had been assigned to him from SD-6, and a prepaid cell phone for personal use. Will never had the number for the STU phone. Neither did Lafayette. The number they had both called was to the prepaid "drop" phone that he always kept that wasn't assigned to any known name of any of his aliases. The purpose of a "drop" phone was just that, so it could be dropped without it being linked back to the person who'd used it. And that phone had its phone records doctored and then disposed of Tuesday afternoon. He then purchased a new "drop" phone with cash and called Will from it so he'd have his new number.

"What are you planning to do about Tippin?" Sloane asked.

"I told you I have contingencies."

"And if your contingencies don't work?"

Not missing a beat, he told Sloane, "Then I'll kill him myself. What are you going to do about Sark?"

Sloane's look was steady and cold as he told him, "That's none of your business. I'll deal with it."

The fact that Arvin was dragging his feet with an immediate removal of Julian Sark informed Jack of one thing. He had assumed that Sark and Sloane had no loyalties to one another. Now, he wasn't so sure about that assumption. Were they in cahoots with one another? He would have to find out.

He stood to leave the office when Sloane spoke. "You've been working hard, Jack. Filling in for me while I was off grieving Emily, and before then you had two back-to-back assignments overseas. I want you to take some time-"

"I don't need time off."

"That wasn't a suggestion. Finish what you have left for today and make the necessary arrangements for your leave of absence. Two weeks outta do it."

They stared at one another for a long moment as Jack felt the noose once again being adjusted around his neck. It wasn't a simple suggestion for him to take leave, but a power play to get him away from SD-6.

Jack opened the door and left the office.

He spotted Vaughn walking toward him. He didn't have time for Agent Vaughn today. They were both in-between missions at the moment, with Vaughn doing a lot of paperwork and analysis on all the intel they'd gotten from the French Consulate. He didn't care too much about any of it. He had all he needed from what Antonio Lafayette had wanted him to find. He had the cassette tapes that held the cipher and the book to decode it, and he had the name of the bank in Bordeaux, France where he could obtain all the assets that belonged to the Alliance.

The rest of the intel on the flash drive was mostly for the C.I.A. in order to get them on the right track to take down SD-6 as soon as possible. What he hadn't expected was that Lafayette would send them down the road that would lead them to Project Christmas. That had been what the debriefing with Vaughn yesterday had been mostly about. Jack knew everything about Project Christmas since he'd been overseeing the project. What he didn't know was the connection between it and this "Prophesy of Five".

Those thoughts as well as Sloane's sudden move to force him into two weeks of leave were on his mind for the rest of the day, so that when Vaughn asked him for Friday off work he gave it to him without hesitation. Vaughn had been exceptionally quiet about everything. He hadn't brought up the finding of the C.I.A. file or the missing book from his car, and from what he knew, he hadn't spoken about it to anyone. Vaughn kept secrets close to the vest and he truly appreciated that in the young agent. He wasn't the type to get a small lead and then blow it by overestimating his advantage. Vaughn didn't draw simple conclusions from a small piece of evidence. He was the type to sit on it, keep his mouth shut, and then once he had enough information would he then show his cards and make his move.

That understanding of how Vaughn operated bought Jack a lot of time to work out all the possible measures and countermeasures he might have to use in order to combat the inevitable outing of him as a covert operative for the C.I.A.. He really wished he had someone in the C.I.A. he could confide in and talk to. Then the thought entered his mind that he did have someone he could talk to within the C.I.A.. It was a risk, but one he had to take.

He left the Anicetus Security building at the end of the day and headed to Will's residence. He didn't want Will to be seen at all for the next few days, giving the appearance that he'd been taken into FBI custody, or the possibility of it. So he wasn't allowed to really go anywhere, especially not home. He spotted the cars on the street, both SD-6 and the FBI, and possibly the CIA, were all watching Tippin's rental house, his friend's house, his work, and his bank account for any activity. They wouldn't find anything.

He entered the apartment building through a back entrance and headed up the stairs to avoid the elevator. Getting to the fourth floor, he pulled out the key Will had given him and entered the apartment. Will's sister Amy was staying with her boyfriend so there was no one in the apartment, but it had been searched. Jack shook his head at the mess that'd been made and headed to the bedroom at the end of the hall. He grabbed a bag and quickly packed it with some clothes and grabbed the tuxedo. He didn't take anything else, not even his toothbrush, as he didn't want it to appear as if Will had come back to the apartment.

He told Will to not go to work, to not even call-in. That conversation had not gone well-Will was good at panicking-but he had understood.

At least, he hoped he did.

Will had a habit of pacing when he was frustrated or angry. The man didn't know how to sit still for too long. He was okay with it, as long as that frustration and inability to sit didn't cause him to walk out the door and right into a sniper bullet.

"I could lose my job!" he protested.

"Yes, you could, but it's either your job or your life." He glanced up at him as he stilled his hand and said, "We'll re-examine after Friday-"

"Re-examine? You sound like this is some sort of experiment or something."

"It is an experiment. Each time we develop a strategy and then put it into action, the outcome creates more scenarios that we then have to consider-"

"Would you please stop with that?!" Will snapped before letting out a breath and collapsing onto the bed and put his head in his hands.

Jack watched him a moment and then went back to doing his task. Will literally had no clothes to wear so he was re-pressing his suit and dress shirt from the day before. He'd hung it up in the bathroom that morning to let the steam from the shower air it out and now he was ironing the wrinkles out.

His anger was boiling and if he hadn't refocused on ironing, he would've started yelling. Will didn't need him yelling at him. Or, maybe he did? Maybe that would be the only way to get through to him how serious this was.

"I'm sorry," he heard Will say. "You're right. I'm just being an idiot."

"You're not being an idiot," he reassured him without looking up. "This is unfamiliar territory for you. That's why you have to trust me."

"God, I never thought domestication could look so sexy."

Lifting his eyes to Will's, he saw the genuine lust in his eyes and it caught him so off guard that it nearly caused him to leave the iron on the shirt too long. He pulled the iron off just in time to prevent it from scorching the cotton fabric. He lifted the shirt and put it on a hanger and hung it on the back of the closet door and then grabbed the pair of slacks.

Will continued to watch him for a long moment before saying, "I'm going to need to get my tux from my house and some clothes."

"I'll get it," he told him as he pressed out the wrinkles in the slacks. "You can't go anywhere familiar."

"I need to call my friends. Francie is probably worried sick!"

"You can't call anyone." He kept ironing the slacks as he asked, "Does Sydney know Francine?"

"Yes. I met Syd through Francie. They're best friends."

He finished the slacks, hung it over a hanger, and then closed up the ironing board. Once he had everything cleaned up, he walked over to the bed and sat down beside him. "Francine knows we're together. Sydney knows I had company over last night. Women talk. Their conclusion will be that you're staying with me."

Will was looking at him and smiled slightly as he shook his head. "You really are the most logical person I've ever known. It's like nothing gets to you. Have you ever lost your cool?"

He did, but him losing his cool usually ended with people dying. "That's nothing for you to worry about."

"How's that?"

Standing up, he truthfully answered, "Cause that's usually when I'm really upset."

"And you're the Hulk now? I wouldn't like you when you're angry?"

Jack walked to the dresser and grabbed his wallet and keys. He pocketed both but then pulled out his wallet and threw some cash on the dresser. "I can not stress to you again how important it is for you to not leave this apartment. But, if you do, use cash. Stay close to the building. Look for CCTV cameras and if you spot any, stay clear of the area. Keep your head down. I have a baseball hat in the closet, sunglasses, wear them if you go out. And please, do not call anyone using your cell phone. I don't even want you to use a payphone. No contact with anyone you know for the next few days."

"Jack, it's not that critical-"

"Yes, it is," he snapped. "Do you want to be popped off like a deer?!" He'd been trying to keep his irradiation inside, but Will's constant ignoring of the seriousness of the situation was really starting to get to him.

That seemed to get through to him as his face paled and he looked away.

Jack immediately felt bad but it was necessary. Then something occurred to him as he stared down at Will. He knew that Will held little belief in his own abilities, but did he question his own self-worth too?

"Will...don't you care about your own life?"

"What? Of course I do," he answered as he looked up at him..

He didn't look away as he asked again, in a different way, "What I mean is, do you feel like you're not worth the trouble? Do you think that I shouldn't care about what happens to you, because you feel you're not worth it?"

Will didn't hold his eyes as he looked away. That gave him his answer and when Will tried to assure him that wasn't the case, he didn't believe him. He was going to have to change that.

"Listen to me," he said as he knelt down in front of Will, putting his hands on his thighs and causing him to look at him. "I never thought anyone would stick it out with me, especially not you."

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" Will asked in confusion.

"Yes. All I am trying to say is that you're not what you think you are. I assure you, you have more strength and courage than you give yourself credit for. You're smarter than you think. Stop doubting yourself. I am trying to keep you safe, but you have to want to keep yourself safe too because I can't be next to you every second of the day."

Will looked away again but then fought against it and looked back into his eyes. He saw the fear, and doubt, but also a resistance that made him want to believe him. Giving him a smile, he told him, "Okay. I'll do everything you want me to do."

He felt some relief as he gave him a kiss and stood. As he pulled on his suit jacket, he looked back at Will and saw him watching him. Then Will got up off the bed and went over to the closet. He skimmed through his ties and picked one out.

"I like this grey shirt," Will told him as he wrapped the tie around his neck. "I'm going to have to get myself one."

As he watched Will do that simple act, it reminded him of how Laura used to do that. Will was right, domestication was extremely sexy. He grabbed Will by the hands, walked him back to the bed, and kissed him as he pushed down.


U.S. Joint Intelligence Task Force

Sydney approached FBI Director Kendall while he was in the break room getting a cup of coffee. Checking over her shoulder to ensure they were alone, she told him, "I received books that could point to Jack Donahue having once been a KGB spy. I sent them to the NSA to be analyzed. I received them from Michael Vaughn. He outed himself to me as being a C.I.A. agent, I did the only thing I could do-"

"I read your report. It was smart. He now has every reason to trust you seeing how you're his boss's daughter and a CIA agent."

"I want to bring him in and tell him the truth about SD-6."

"One thing at a time," Kendall said as he took a sip of the coffee and headed out of the break room. She followed. "You also put in a request to have tomorrow off work. Personal matter?"

She gave a nod as she debated about whether to tell him she was going to Maryland with Michael Vaughn. Instead, she told him, "Jack Donahue has a C.I.A. file. An actual file. Do you think it's possible he was once C.I.A.?"

He shrugged and said, "Could've been. We know that most of the members of the Alliance had all been former intelligence officers. However, there was never a Jack Donahue in the C.I.A. or any other intelligence agency that we know of."

"Wait," she said as she stopped him in the hallway before he got to his office. "All members were former intelligence officers, including my dad? How come you didn't inform me of this at the start-"

"Would it have mattered to you to know that he was once C.I.A? He committed treason and went rogue. Not only that, but he's the Director of a mercenary terrorist cell."

"Yes, it matters," she nearly yelled. "He could be an asset leaking us intel, or a covert agent with DCS, or a C.I."

"Agent Sloane, I understand how one would want to believe the best of others, especially when it comes to family, but there is nothing to suggest that Arvin Sloane is leaking us intel or that he's an asset. All roads lead to him not only knowingly conducting mercenary missions all over the world in direct competition of the C.I.A., but also committing deliberate acts of criminal activity, treason, espionage, and let's not forget murder. Now, if this is going to continue to be an issue for you, or if you're blinded by whatever sense of loyalty you may think you have to your family, then you need to re-evaluate your career choice."

She stared at him and felt herself want to snap at him in anger for suggesting she had any loyalty to her father. But, then she realized how right he was. There was hate inside her heart for what her father could be, what her dad could be, but there was also that sense of family. How could she distance herself enough to remain non-complicit and objective?

"You're too close to this," Kendall suddenly said, drawing her out of her thoughts. "You're personally involved with every target in this investigation-"

"Because you wanted me to be!"

"I also thought I could trust you to remain objective but obviously there is a conflict of interest."

"You're damn right there's a conflict! They're family, but that doesn't mean I can't do my job! You can't-"

"Did you just tell me what I can't do, Agent?" he asked as he smirked at her in amusement at her audacity. She went to protest when Kendall cut her off again, telling her, "Take it off. The rest of today until Monday. When you get back, we can discuss your future career choices."

"You can't do that," she snapped as she glared at him. "I'm the only one-"

Kendall stepped right up to her and said, "See, there you go again trying to tell me what I can't do. If you argue with me any further, it'd be the whole week."

He went into his office and shut the door, leaving her standing in the hallway.


Jack's Apartment

Will had returned to the apartment after buying Thai takeout and some essential things he needed for the next few days including a toothbrush, boxers, and beer. Jack was in the bedroom when he walked into the kitchen. He heard him moving around before walking out and into the kitchen.

"Oh, hey, do you like Thai?" he asked as he put the bags on the kitchen counter. "I tried calling you but you didn't answer. I don't know what you like so I got a couple different things. There's vegetables, spicy beef, orange chicken..sweet and sour." He placed the containers on the counter and watched as Jack grabbed a spring roll and took a bite. Jack leaned against the counter as he watched him. "What is it?"

"There's a situation I have to take care of in Maryland. I have to leave here in an hour."

"You have time to eat, right?," he asked as he grabbed a couple plates. "I also got more beer. Besides eating, drinking, and worrying, I don't know what else to do with my time."

"With all this food you won't go hungry."

He looked over the counter full of food and sighed as he rubbed his hair. "Yeah, I went overboard."

Jack wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him toward him and gave him a kiss. It was soft, and sweet, and it was exactly what he needed. He ended the kiss and grabbed a carton of rice and a container of the sweet and sour chicken as he told him, "I would've been fine with anything. I love Thai."

"That's good to know."

After they'd eaten Jack packed an overnight bag and left for the airport. He'd told him not to worry but that was easier said than done. He tried to get everything off his mind as he sat down on the couch and flipped through a book. He couldn't concentrate. All he could think of was what had happened over the last couple of weeks since meeting Jack. He went to the bedroom and grabbed his laptop out of his bag and all the files he'd acquired.

He sat down at the kitchen table and started writing.

Sometime later, he heard a knock at the door. He looked up toward the door and then at the clock on the wall. It was after eight o'clock. Getting up, he headed to the front door as the knocking grew louder and faster.

"We need to talk," Sydney said as she entered the apartment.

Will was surprised to see Sydney there and hadn't had time to react as she pushed her way past the door.

"Where's Jack?"

"He had a last minute business trip. He'll be back tomorrow. Why?" he asked as he shut the door.

She stopped and stood in the middle of the living room. Her arms crossed over her chest as she looked around. He knew something was bothering her. It reminded him of how Jack looked last night after their talk. Sydney had the same way about her as Jack did. They both shut down.

He watched her a second before asking, "Have you eaten dinner? There's Orange Chicken, your favorite."

"I'm not hungry," she said.

Walking over to her, he said, "Hey, is...uh, is everything okay? This isn't about me is it?"

"What?" she asked as she looked up at him. "No, Will. This isn't about you." Sydney didn't move to sit down or anything. Instead, she stayed standing as she once again looked around the living room like she didn't know if she should be there.

"You want a beer?" he asked as he headed to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Pulling out two bottles, he shut the door and saw her standing there in the doorway. Will popped the tops off both and handed her one. "Jack won't mind if you're here. At least I don't think he would."

She looked at him as she took a drink. "Will, I think you should leave."

He stared at her and shook his head. "What?"

She put the bottle down on the counter and said, "Listen to me, Jack's-"

"Jack's what?"

"He's not right for you-"

"Not right-" he pushed off the counter and shook his head. "Where is this coming from? You never cared who I dated-"

"That was before you dated someone I know."

"Is that what this is about? You know him so it's now awkward? Or is it because I'm no longer paying any attention to you?"

Sydney snapped her mouth shut and glared at him. Okay, that was a step too far and he knew it. "I'm not jealous! This isn't about me, it's about you and Jack!"

"You don't even know about me and Jack," he yelled back. "Where've you been? I haven't seen you in weeks and now suddenly you're coming over here telling me that I need to leave. What's wrong with you?!"

"You don't know him."

"You're the one who doesn't know him, Syd!" he said as he suddenly felt like kicking her out. "What I know is that after you left here last night he didn't say a word to me. He completely shut down. So, what I want to know is what did you say to him?"

"Oh, my God," she said as she looked at him. "You love him."

"Syd-"

"No, Will. It's obvious." She held her head and turned around and went back into the living room.

He slammed the beer bottle on the counter as he followed her. "Yes, I love him," he confirmed for her. "And the crazy thing is he loves me back."

"Did he tell you that?" she asked as she turned to face him. He could see tears in her eyes.

What was going on? Will stood staring at her as he placed his hands on his hips and gave a nod. "Yeah, in his own way. We talk. We're...It's serious. This isn't a fling or mid-life crisis or whatever you think it is for him and, and if that's why you think I should leave, because you don't think he's-"

"It's not that." She shook her head and was fighting something back as she looked around again. "This apartment, it's so impersonal."

Will looked around at the apartment and shrugged. "Because it's an apartment, not his home." They stared at each other for a long moment before she went to the door. "Tell me what this is about."

"I told you it has nothing to do with you," she told him as she opened the door. "I really need to talk to Jack about something. Can you...Will you call me when he gets back?"

He gave a nod. "Syd-"

"Be safe, okay," she said as she opened the door.

"-Syd," Will watched as she left the apartment and felt so confused.

Maybe it had to do with her father, he thought as he went back into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of beer Sydney took a sip out of and took a drink out of it. He had gone to the police and told them that an employee with Anicetus Security had committed murder. Sydney's father owned Anicetus Security and maybe he figured out that he and Jack were dating through Sydney and he got upset.

He had no idea other than he suddenly didn't want to be there. Not that he wanted to leave, or leave Jack, but that he wanted to be with his friends and talk. He missed Francie. Even though Sydney had yelled at him, it'd been nice seeing her again.


Morgantown, Maryland

Home of DCS Director Hayden Chase

Jack stared out across the open yard through the trees at the Potomac River. Not too far away he once had a house with a yard that overlooked the river. It'd been where he raised Sydney for the first six years of her life. That seemed like a lifetime ago. It'd been so long ago that it no longer even seemed like he'd lived it.

He heard the squeak in the old floorboards and turned to see Hayden Chase, the Director of the Department of Clandestine Services, standing in front of him. She was a strong looking woman with sharp eyes. A widow; her husband had died on September 11th of last year. He'd been at the Pentagon.

"The police are on the way," she told him.

"That gives us very little time. I'm-...My codename is Raptor."

Chase's eyes widened as she looked him over. She lowered the gun but didn't put it down as she walked over to the desk. She hit a button on the computer and then placed the gun down. She typed something as she kept her eyes on him and said, "As long as I've been Director of the DCS, I've never accessed the personnel file of the covert operative assigned to Operation Rubicon until right now." She looked at the screen and then up at him. "You've aged well, Agent Bristow. It's been twenty years. Are you finally coming in out of the cold?"

He swallowed hard and shook his head slightly. "I'm not done yet."

"Then why are you here?"

He let out a breath as he answered, "I need guidance. You're the only one I can talk to."

"You came all the way here for a pep talk?"

He looked away. That hadn't been the reason, but that was how it sounded. "If the police arrive, I've come here for no other reason than to be arrested."

Chase sighed and sat down in the chair behind the desk and gestured to the chair in front of it for him to sit. Jack knew there was a silent alarm button under the desk.

"You didn't call the police," he said as he took a seat.

They looked at one another for a long time as neither spoke. Jack had it all worked out in his head on the plane. Everything he was going to say and all the questions he had left him the moment he pulled the rental car into the driveway. The sight of the house, the woods, the river, and smell of the East Coast, had taken him to another time. He never could rid himself of the mistakes of his past and being there brought everything flooding back. He was reminded of how he'd failed his daughter.

"Agent Bristow, I don't have all night."

Jack lifted his eyes and stretched out in the chair as he stared at the desk, saying, "I found out recently that my daughter is also C.I.A.."

Chase checked the file on the computer and said, "Your daughter is Agent Sydney Sloane?"

"You can imagine my surprise and disbelief when I found out that I had entrusted my daughter to my very enemy. All I ever wanted to do was to protect her. Arvin Sloane had been my best friend, and now...I am certain that he would not hesitate to either kill her or use her against me if he thought it would benefit him."

"And that's why you're here? You don't know how to proceed since you know now that your daughter might be in danger?"

He had no idea. Spotting the wet bar along the wall, he got up and gestured to it. Director Chase gestured it was okay for him to pour himself a drink, and then she said, "Pour two."

Jack poured two glasses of the Brandy and handed her a glass. She had no whiskey. He swallowed the drink and sat back down, head in his hand as he tried to remember why he felt it so important for him to come all the way out there. Had it really been to talk to her or was it because he'd found out that Sydney knew he was her father. Had he wanted to come to Maryland to remember what it was like to be her dad? Was he escaping being there for her now?

"I suspect that she found out I was her father. I haven't confirmed it, but...I know she knows. In twenty years, I have never broken protocol. Here I am being pulled in directions I never saw coming, and I'm uncertain how to handle any of it," he said and was surprised that he had spoken any of that out loud.

It was the truth. He was conflicted and adrift. Lost. Truly and completely lost.

"It has been a long time. I'm familiar with the stipulations of the agreement. You are to never reveal yourself and your true allegiance to anyone until the assignment's over."

"I know what the stipulations are," Jack said as he looked up at her. "I don't think Director Xander realized how long this operation would take. The toll it would take. He didn't know that my daughter-"

"Jonathan Bristow is presumed dead. Your file has been classified as Alpha Black. You can not tell her."

Jack took a drink of the brandy and sat back in the chair as he told her, "It's been compromised."

Chase gave him a look that told him if he spoke another word, she'd kill him. "What's been compromised?"

"Somehow a redacted version of my C.I.A. file has been obtained."

"By who?"

He looked away and then told her, "An SD-6 agent named Michael Vaughn."

Chase sighed heavily and leaned back in the chair and rubbed her face. "Wait...Vaughn? I know that name."

"He's the son of former C.I.A. Agent William Vaughn."

"Oh my God," she said as she downed the drink and then got up to pour herself another. "This is FUBAR."

The military acronym FUBAR stood for, among many things, "Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition", and he agreed as he took a drink of the warm brandy.

"I would consider it a SNAFU," he said, meaning "Situation Normal, All Fucked Up".

Chase glared over at him as she sat back down. "And you're telling jokes."

"At least you realized it was a joke," Jack said and then finished the drink. He really didn't like brandy. "There aren't too many people who find me funny."

"Maybe because you have a look on your face that makes people fear death if they did."

He did? Jack considered that for a moment and then said, "Huh. I never considered that."

Chase finally laughed then. A good hearty laugh that echoed in the empty house. He wished he could join her in the laughter but he knew, they both knew, how critical this was becoming. The operation would have to end soon before more lives were lost or before he was found out.

"I want to be able to bring the Alliance down within the next two to three weeks. I've set the ball rolling but I'm not sure how close the C.I.A. is to having everything they need."

She pointed at him and said, "You're the one who put the task force onto server 47."

"I was. Have they located it yet?"

She shook her head. "Last report was that they were still trying to track it down. We don't even know what it is."

Jack wanted another drink. He got up and refilled the glass as he told her, "I'm under the presumption it's a central server for the Alliance. A network that connects all the SD cells. That's why server 47 has been kept a secret. It would leave the Alliance vulnerable." He took a drink and then returned to the chair. After sitting back down, he told her, "I'm leaving for France Saturday. I believe I found the bank where they put all their financial assets. I'm in a relationship with someone and it was their relentless investigative work that uncovered it."

Chase studied him a moment after he confided in her that information. "Do I want to know?"

"You probably don't want to know, no. But you need to know. It'd been a calculated risk that I had to take and I'm glad I did, it paid off."

"And are you still in contact with this person you're involved with?"

Jack took a drink and then gave a nod. "I am."

Chase finished her second drink and he did the same. "I'll see what I can do to speed the task force along in their search into the whereabouts of server 47, and I'll talk to Assistant Director Kendall and Director Devlin about your daughter's further involvement. We can reassign her to get her out of harm's way. I can only imagine the fallout that's to come. The Alliance won't go quietly."

"No global superpower ever does. Thank you for the drink," he told her as he stood to leave.

"Agent Bristow," Chase called out and he turned to face her. She leaned back in the chair, watching him. "Is there anything else I need to know?"

Jack thought about all the other things she needed to know, like the coded message, that he believed Arvin Sloane was involved with the Tirad, and that the Tirad could be a front for another far more sinister and powerful group.

He said none of those things as he shook his head. "Not at this time. Have a good night."


FRIDAY

Angel's Flight

Jack had used a flashlight to see his way through the underground tunnel that spanned several blocks to get to the service access stairs that exited out into Angel's Knoll park near Angel's Flight. Will had taken the street from the hotel after they arrived nearly thirty minutes prior.

Will had been unusually quiet when he returned that afternoon. Usually he was bursting with energy and spoke whatever was on his mind. He actually enjoyed that about Will, his inability to restrain himself when they were together. The sound of Will's voice, and the way he talked openly with him, calmed him in a way. It steadied his mind and gave him something else to focus on instead of all the chaos in his head.

He knew if he'd let him that Will would take up permanent residence in his mind, and heart, and he had let him. It was comforting to have someone in his thoughts that didn't play games, or wanted to gain a foothold whatever game they were playing by use of deceit, betray, and lies.

He needed that. He needed Will.

So when he heard the sound of gunfire and Will's frantic gasps and breathless running as people screamed, he was out of the door and charging down the trail toward the stairs that lead up to the top level of the parking garage below California Plaza.

In his ear, he heard Will say, "I had to take the direct option. Coming down the-"

Jack spotted Will at the top of the stairs he'd gotten to as he got to the bottom of those same stairs. They both took off running at the same time, him going up and Will coming down.

Behind Will he spotted Sark. Pulling his gun, he took aim around Will's body the moment he caught him in his right arm and fired.

The bullet hit Sark in his right shoulder, causing him to spin around and stumble as he dropped his gun. He watched as Sark caught himself on the railing to keep from falling further down the steps. Will was breathless next to him as he panted in his ear.

"Are you good?"

"I'm good," Will answered.

Jack stared at Sark who was gasping and bleeding at his feet and holstered his gun. Picking him up around the shoulders, he told Will as he heard sirens. "Get his gun."

"What-Oh, right, his gun, okay," Will said, his voice shaky, as he grabbed Sark's gun and helped him to carry Sark down the steps and along the trail.

They were into the service access structure within seconds but it seemed like it'd taken hours. Too long of a time to get there that they could have been spotted. Sark was equally making things difficult as he didn't want to cooperate.

Will was ahead of them, leading the way with the flashlight. If Will hadn't been there, he would've just dropped Sark over the side, letting him fall to the ground from five flights up.

"Stop struggling," he bit out at Sark as they neared the bottom. Will was already there waiting.

"Let me go and-"

Doing as he asked, Jack pushed him forward and let go. Sark tripped over his own feet and fell face first into the ground.

Will didn't say anything as he watched, but he spotted the smile that appeared on his face before it was gone. Rolling Sark over, he pressed his thumb into the gunshot wound as he told him, "You'll cooperate, or I'll make sure that the next moments of your life are the ones that'll make you regret ever being born."

Sark went silent as Jack let go. He rolled him back over to his stomach then pulled out a pair of flexi-cuffs from his pocket and tied Sark's hands behind his back. Picking him up, Will lead the way through the tunnel toward the hotel.


Biltmore Hotel

Jack had previously requested a room on the sixth floor, by the north side elevators and next to the stairwell. He used the key card to enter and once in the room, he dropped Sark to the floor. Blood was coating the entire back right of his tuxedo jacket.

Will looked a little shaken and sweaty as he pulled at his bowtie. "That was a long walk."

He looked him over but didn't see any blood and bullet holes in him. He hadn't had time to thoroughly check him over. He was fine. "Go; enjoy the banquet-"

Will stared over at him and he looked like he wanted to protest but changed his mind. Before he left, he pulled him onto a kiss. "You look stunning in that tux."

He watched him leave and then turned his attention to Julian Sark. After taking off his tuxedo jacket and undoing his bowtie, he told him, "There's only one thing you need to understand before we get started and that is, you're useless to me. I don't need you to talk."

Sark set his jaw tight and jilted out his chin at him in stubbornness. So, that was the first thing he broke.


Will approached the front desk in the lobby and pulled out his wallet. He took out Jack's business card and grabbed a pen. Rigal walked over and he said as he crossed out Jack's old cell number and wrote down his own, "I don't want anyone to disturb Mr. Sark or Mr. Donahue."

"Is there an issue-"

"Nothing for you to worry about. Listen, if anyone comes in asking about either one of them, or me, you tell them it'll take you some time to track us down. Direct them to the bar, and then call me." He handed Rigal the business card. "My cell number is on the back. Thanks."

Will left the lobby and headed up to the ballroom where the Caplan Awards were being held.


Jack was interrupted by a knock at the door. Walking over, he stayed off to the side by the doorframe and asked, "Who is it?"

"It's me. Will."

He opened the door and Will rushed in saying, "There's someone here looking for him. A woman."

"Where is she?"

"She was at the bar-"

"Did she see you? Did anyone follow you up?"

"I was alone, but Rigal the night manager isn't going to keep quiet for long. He-" Will fell silent when he saw the state Sark was in.

Jack walked over to Sark as he asked, "Who is she? Who's the woman."

There was a pen in Sark's right hand and a pad of paper by his side on the floor. His right hand, eyes, and ears were the only three things he left in working condition on his body. His eyes held amusement as he wrote, "She'll kill you both."

Pulling out his gun, he shoved it under his chin as he said, "I'm through playing games-"

"Will," Sark breathed out of his mouth. The only audible sounds besides griggling and gasps of air.

"You're right. I don't want to blow your brains out in front of him. I also don't want to make housekeeping scrap pieces of your skull off the ceiling. But I will do both if you don't answer my question."

Sark started writing. I. R. I. N. A.

Jack stared at the name as he spoke, "Irina Derevko?"

"Who is it?" Will asked.

Glaring down at Sark, he said, "You work for Irina Derevko."

He saw the surprise in Sark's eyes, and then the amusement. His lack of remorse or care. His hand started to shake as he wanted nothing more than to squeeze the trigger. Sark had tried to kill Will, and because of him, Irina was now there to kill the both of them.

"Jack. Don't."

He blinked back as he heard those words. He'd almost forgotten that Will was even there. If he blew Sark's head off right then, Will would never look at him the same way. He would lose him. It hurt when he realized he was willing to let Will go if it meant being able to end Sark's life.

"Please, Jack. He's not worth it "

And just like any good safety rope, Will's words stopped him from going too far. He lowered the gun and stepped away.

"You know her?" Will asked.

Jack gave a nod as he let out a ragged breath that hurt his chest. "I used to," he told Will as he stepped back from Julian Sark. "She died twenty years ago. Irina's my ex-wife."

Will was staring at him with a hundred questions in his eyes and he couldn't answer a single one. All he knew was that they had to leave. Now.

They grabbed Sark up and Jack checked the hallway before getting Sark over his shoulder in a fireman carry. Will went to the elevator first and he waited for the doors to open before leaving the room.

Jack dropped Sark to the floor and as he turned, he stopped moving as he saw the woman who'd gotten off the elevator at the other end of the hall. It looked like she hadn't aged a day. As the elevator doors closed, their eyes locked.

Irina's eyes widened slightly before she was gone, but the image of her standing there was burned into his mind. He had to actually see her for it to finally set in that she was alive.

He hit the button for the parking garage.

The ride down seemed like it took forever as it stopped twice. Both times he held out his wallet and strictly told the hotel guests to get the next one. Once they saw him, and Sark, and a nervous Will in the corner, none of them protested. He hated elevators but he wouldn't have made it down the stairwell fast enough.

As they closed in on the garage floor, he pulled his gun, pushed Will into the corner, as he ducked into the other corner as the doors opened. He surveyed the area as he swept his gun along with his eyes from one side to the other.

A man in a suit and a cell phone up to his ear came around the corner. Their eyes met and the man dropped the phone to grab at his gun that was in a shoulder holster. Jack doubled tapped him in the chest and then told Will, "Grab Sark and get to the car."

Will was staring at him, hands over his ears, but he moved his legs and arms as he grabbed up Sark. Jack let them get out first before following, turning in all directions as they neared the car. Pulling out the keys with his right hand, he tossed them to Will as he stood guard, eyes trained on the elevators and the stairwell door as Will got Sark into the backseat.

"I'm driving," he told Will as he started for the driver's side door.

Once they were out of the garage, he floored it, getting up to sixty before reaching the freeway. He had a dead drop planned for Sark so he'd go into C.I.A. custody, but it was on the other side of the city.

"I don't know what's going on-and I told myself I wouldn't ask. But-"

"Not now," he said.

Will didn't say anything for a long time. Then he asked, "You mind if I turn on the radio? I need to listen to something. Is that okay?"

Jack gave a curt nod as he stared straight out the window Will turned on the radio. He skipped through a lot of stations, apparently he didn't like the Classical station he had last listened to and instead put it on a station he'd never heard of and music he never listened to, but if that was what Will needed...He would let him.

He almost let Will go. The hate and anger that had gripped him had nearly been too much for him to take as he looked into Sark's eyes and saw his twisted amusement and lack of remorse. Will had stopped him. His voice had broken through the hate and his overprotective need to murder those who threatened his loved one's life.

Will was talking, he was sure of it. Will always talked when he was nervous. But he didn't hear any of it. He was stuck in his own thoughts as the guitar solo he'd been listening to for the last couple of seconds was accompanied by a man's singing voice.

"Your words to me just a whisper

Your face is so unclear

I try to pay attention

Your words just disappear,"

He almost pulled the trigger and killed Julian Sark right in front of Will. He would have never looked at him the same way again after that. He would've seen the darkness below. The man he had become through all the years of living alone in hate and without love. Oh, he loved, but he hadn't felt it for himself in so long that it was hard to recognize it. To feel it when it was important to feel it.

"'Cause it's always raining in my head-"

Love without hate. Love without anger or protectiveness or sacrifice. Love for the sake of love.

"-Forget all the things I should have said-"

That had been a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. Not since he'd been married. He forgot how to love just to love and be happy. The comfort it brought him was so familiar. Some people didn't like familiarity, especially when it came to a partner. He wasn't one of those people. His professional life was so chaotic and always unfamiliar, uncomfortable, and full of uncertainty, that he craved certainty in his private life. He wanted to be comfortable. He wanted familiarity. Something that was simple, easy, but also real and honest.

"So I speak to you in riddles

'Cause my words get in my way-"

Will brought him all those things. They hadn't known each other long, but that didn't matter to him. He knew what he wanted in life and in love. Love and trust was everything; the foundation. The rest that came would be the house they built together that was solid and true, and not just window dressing to make it appear or seem deceivingly better than what it was.

"I smoke the whole thing to my head

And feel it wash away."

That was why he could never lie to Will. He didn't want lies to be what they built on top of, because then it would sink. It would devour him in darkness. He would be no better than Irina. His mind no longer looked at love through a youthful, lusting, naive, or fearful lens. He's seen everything. His heart knew knives; scar tissue covered not only his skin but his heart as well. Yet, he would gladly let Will stab him in his heart so that he could bleed again. He was more than worth it.

"'Cause I can't take anymore of this

I want to come apart

And dig myself a little hole

Inside your precious heart."

He didn't want to leave anything left unsaid. He wanted to also put a hole in Will's heart. But not one inflicted from pain or deceit, or to kill. A hole that was inflicted from the kind of love that cut so deep it made you realize how truly alive you actually were. The one that didn't heal, didn't scar over, because you didn't want it to.

'Cause it's always raining in my head-"

That was how he knew this was real. He wasn't as open a book as Will. He was hard to read. Hard to understand. He worked his brain, trying to find a way to answer all of Will's unspoken questions to the best of his ability.

"-Forget all the things I should have said."

What made it so hard was that Will didn't understand how hard it was for him to love to begin with. Will didn't know how deeply it went. How strongly he felt that emotion and the lengths he would go in order to protect those he loved.

"I am nothing more than a little boy inside

That cries out for attention

Yet I always try to hide-"

And just hearing what Will had told him, that he wasn't worth him losing a part of himself by killing someone for him, brought him both a sense of anger and appreciation. Anger because he knew Will didn't value himself enough to think he was warranted the sacrifice and the appreciation that Will would never demand him to take a life for him. Will wanted him to not drown in the hate. He didn't want him to continue to hide in the darkness.

"'Cause I talk to you like children

Though I don't know how I feel-"

He wanted their love to be as pure as Will Tippin. He wanted that pureness to sink so deeply inside that nothing on earth could break it. It'd been tested tonight. He could've lost Will. Will could have hated him. Could've left him and never forgiven him. Could've ripped his heart out of his body. Will could've done any of those things and he wouldn't have stopped loving him for doing any of it. He would have forgiven him for all of it. That was how he loved. Completely and sincerely through anything and everything.

"-But I know I'll do the right thing

If the right thing is revealed!"

He didn't have to fear Will's love for him; it was honest. He was vulnerable and affectionate, everything he wasn't but used to be and hoped to be again one day. There were so many reasons, so many things that came to his mind as to why he had given his heart, trust, and his loyalty to Will Tippin, but the most important and only reason was simply because he loved him.

"'Cause it's always raining in my head-"

He didn't deserve it. But, he would take it.

"It's okay," Will said. "You don't have to tell me anything right now. I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to," he said as he took his right hand in his left and held on.

Jack worked his jaw, wanting to say something, but nothing would come out. It was too raw; too close. There was nothing he could say.

"-Forget all the things I should have said."

He saw the bright headlights and before he had time to comprehend how close they were, the car was struck. Jack felt himself hit the door as he heard glass shattering and a scream that shivered up his spine right before the airbag deployed, knocking his head back and he lost consciousness.

The world blurred as pain screamed at his head. He felt stiff and numb and in so much pain. There were noises in his ears; a ringing that wouldn't stop.

"Jack? Jack?!"

He tried to focus on the sound of his name as his head swirled in confusion before clarity hit him hard in the chest. Or that could be the steering wheel that was pressed firmly against his chest and the restraint from the seatbelt. Thank God for seatbelts.

Whoever made the airbag, however, could get fucking murdered. It'd been delayed. He could've been killed. He moaned as he felt the stabbing pain in his head. Closing his eyes, he fought back the wave of nausea and fogginess of a concussion and tried to focus on what was happening around him. Will?

"Will?!" he suddenly asked as he turned his head and groaned at the pain and looked over at the passenger seat.

He was alive and breathing and staring at him in panic. Otherwise, he looked okay. The car had t-boned them on the driver's side.

"She took him."

Swallowing the blood in his mouth, he asked, "She-Who?"

"Irina. She took Sark."

Jack blinked back the confusion and looked into the backseat of the car and closed his eyes. Fuck.

He tried to unbuckle the seatbelt but it was stuck. Damn it. His hands fumbled as he tried to open the console between the seats. Why couldn't he open it? Will reached over and helped him as he got it open. Grabbing the knife, he tried to cut the seatbelt but Will reached out and took the knife from him. He leaned over and cut his seatbelt and then his own.

"We need to get out of the car," he told him as he tried to move.

His legs felt heavy and didn't want to cooperate but he was able to work his way over top of the console and into the passenger seat once Will was out of the car. Will helped him out and the moment he put weight on his legs he nearly collapsed. Pain shot up his back and Will had to catch him from falling.

"You need to get to a hospital." He tried to shake him off as he shook his head. "Jack, you might have a concussion."

"I need to get him...We need to follow-"

"We'll get him back. We will, but not right now. You're hurt!"

He could hear sirens in the distance. The police were on the way. Jack fought to stay awake as he got his legs to work. His back was in pain and it hurt to move, but they couldn't stay. There would be someone coming. "Will, we have to go-"

"You're bleeding!"

"We're not safe-"

A gunshot sent him back to the ground as he pulled Will with him. Another gunshot hit the car and another ricocheted off the pavement and hit the light pole next to them. Jack reached for his gun and pulled it out. Peering under the car he saw someone walking towards them. Taking aim, he got off a couple of shots and hit the man in his leg.

Getting up, he held the gun in front of him, aimed at the gunman, as he rounded the car. The moment he saw him move his right hand that held the gun, he shot him in his head. He looked around and didn't see anyone else. His vision was still blurry but he wasn't as bad as he had been.

Turning to Will, he saw him staring at the dead guy on the ground. He grabbed him and pulled him over to the trunk of the car. They had their bags in the trunk, having arranged to go straight to his yacht from the hotel since Marina del Rey was closer to LAX.

"Take your bag. We gotta go," his voice sounded like it was coming through a fog.

Will seemed to be in a sort of daze but he took his bag. He didn't seem fully aware, like he was on autopilot as he followed.

Jack's legs were heavy and it hurt to walk but he made it to the nearest metro station. Will caught him a couple times but didn't say anything as they got onto the subway. He noticed the looks they were getting and realized they must have looked like they'd been in a car crash. His head was bleeding, and there was blood on his shirt and suit, and there was glass in his hair. Will had a bruise forming on the right side of his face from hitting the window but otherwise he looked okay, except for being lost in thought. He could've been in shock.

He leaned against Will as he felt the urge to close his eyes. The lights from the subway were too bright and his vision swirled as he felt his stomach twist in knots. He heard Will's voice coming through the static in his head. He had no idea what he was saying.

He barely remembered Will grabbing him up by his arms and lifting him along with him to his feet as they exited the subway. A vision of Leslie Cole appeared in front of him before it faded and the next thing he knew he was on the Rendezvous and his suit was being removed.

There were voices talking, Will and Leslie, and then it was just Will. He felt his fingers on his head, a wet washcloth against his face. He struggled to stay awake but couldn't. His last thoughts before he passed out were if Laura, aka, Irina Derevko, had been the "la femme" Antonio Lafayette had tried to warn him about.


24 Hours Ago

Morgantown, Maryland

Home of DCS Director Hayden Chase

Once C.I.A. Operative Jonathan "Jack" Bristow left her house, Hayden Chase picked up the phone and dialed a long distance number from her secure telephone. After three rings, there was an answer.

"Hello?" the male voice answered.

"Is this line secure?" she asked.

"It is."

"You'll never guess who visited me tonight in my home. Jack Bristow."

There was silence on the line before he said, "What did he want?"

"My advice. You should know that Will Tippin is not in the wind. Jack has him stashed someplace safe."

"Of course he did. I haven't seen Jack this smitten with anyone since Laura. Love tends to blind him, and it's his biggest weakness. I'll get someone on it."

"Also, Banque Citadelle is compromised," she informed him. "He leaves for France Saturday."

Another moment of silence before he said, "So, he's going to Bordeaux. We'll have a welcome party waiting. Is that all?"

"That's all. You have a good night."

"It's been too long, Hayden. After this is over, we should get together and have dinner."

She shook her head. "When this is over, Arvin, I wouldn't want to be anywhere near you," she told him before hanging up the phone.

TBC…

A/N: The song used in this chapter is "Epiphany" by Staind. No copyright intended.