-1She managed to keep her cool until she actually locked herself in the stall. Then the flood of emotions running through her head burst forth again with devastating severity.

"Oh, GOD!" She sobbed, her face buried in shaky hands. What had just happened? How could he have been standing there? Jack was dead. That meant forever. On the one hand, she was relieved that he had been standing there, clearly alive. On the other hand, what the hell? How could he have done this to her? The devastation, the pain, the worry, all of that seemed so…fake. Meaningless. For eight months she had dealt with his death, and now just as she was getting her life back together he just shows up like it was some kind of horrible joke? How could he?

The metal creaking of the bathroom door and soft footsteps making their way toward the stalls prompted her to quiet down and compose herself.

Surely to God he wouldn't have come in the ladies room…She thought.

She was wrong.

"Chloe? Chloe please. Talk to me." Jack pleaded quietly, his voice gravely with exhaustion mixed with pain.

Glaring at the tile floor, she took a deep breath. "Go away, Jack. You're dead remember? You can't be here."

He paused a moment, and Chloe could see his shadow descending on her stall. "Please, Chloe."

Wiping her eyes quickly with her sleeve, Chloe slowly unlocked the door and took a step forward, looking at him with aching eyes. He looked rough. A dirty black t-shirt riddled with holes clung to his muscular, yet exhausted body. A bandage on his forearm hid a large gash, one that would surely require stitches. His hair was mussed, and she could see that it had been quite a while since he had shaved. Dark circles had formed under his clear blue eyes, and his face looked gaunt. The sight of him alone nearly rendered her speechless. She'd never seen him look this bad before. He looked…dead.

"What happened to you?" She whispered, not knowing what else to say to him.

A forced smile formed on his mouth, and he scratched his jaw with a dirty hand. "C'mon now…I don't look that bad, do I?"

"Yeah, you do." She replied, still keeping her distance.

She watched as he looked her over, and swallowed as his eyes settled on her growing stomach.

"I never pictured you as a mother." He said dryly. Chloe bristled. "Yeah, well neither did I."

Swallowing, he forced another tiny smile. "Picked out a name yet?"

"Olivia if it's a girl…" She replied, her voice trailing.

Jack studied her, waiting. "And if it's a boy?"

She remained silent for a beat, not wanting to answer. "How could you…" She blurted finally, unable to play his game and mask her anger any longer.

His eyes cut to the tile floor of the bathroom, not having the courage to look into her face.

"Chloe…I wanted to tell you. I did. I just--" She took a step forward. "Just what, Jack? Just thought I was an acceptable loss? Thought I would understand? Jack, what the hell were you thinking? We had a life. A good one. And you just threw it away for nothing? For a case that wasn't even worth looking into?"

"I didn't want--" "No, Jack." She interrupted angrily. "I don't want to hear it. I saw you in the morgue. You were dead. And now you're here like nothing happened. I buried you, Jack…." Her voice broke ever so slightly.

He moved toward her, brushing a stray piece of hair away from her face. "I'm sorry…" He whispered softly.

She pulled away angrily and stared him square in the eye, bitter hatred detectable in her voice.

"Just go. You're dead to me."

Jack was silent, stunned. He couldn't even begin to think of what to say. He knew she was right, what he had done was unacceptable. She had very right to be angry. Running a hand through his mussed hair, he headed toward the door.

"Oh by the way…" He murmured, glancing back at her defeatedly as he walked out.

"I got your message."

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