A/N: Chapter two, from Jack's POV. Same dialogue, etc. I like getting everyone's input on the situation, thus two chapters for one scene. Note, I am not as great at Jack POV as I am with Renee. --Untalented.

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I guess this means I'm dying. I can't let Kim get involved, not for me. I'm not worth risking her life, or anyone's life for that matter. Do I have regrets? Of course. I regret that the time I finally meet my daughter again is my time to die. I regret the people I've hurt in my life. I regret that I made a good friend in Renee, and now I'm dying. Many regrets; too many for one person to carry.

The door opens slowly. I look up, not knowing what to expect. I see Renee in the frame of the door and quickly grab a shirt, trying to put it on before she came in. Of course, that isn't possible. She closes the door and her eyes fall upon me. She gasps. The corners of my mouth twitch a little. It wasn't a pretty sight to be sure: a scarred serial killer.

As soon as the t-shirt is completely on, I mutter, "Sorry."

"Don't be," she says. I stand up. Her face is very plain, as if she washed her face of ruined make-up and tears before she came in. So she knows. I just wish I could spare her some pain, but that's not possible. It's too late.

"How do you do it?" she asks. I note the bitter sadness in her question.

"What? D-do what?" I don't understand. But what did I expect her to say? I had no idea. What would I say if I knew Teri would die a day before it happened? That's a tough question. I don't know what I would say. Maybe that I love her...and I'm a hopeless idiot. But neither of those apply to Renee, do they?

She unleashes a torrent of words, "Keep so calm even with all this against you. You--you never show any sadness or fear. Why? What twisted masquerade, a mask that hides you inside. So many walls built to lock in any sign of something--something that makes you human."

Truth is, I don't know when those walls were put in place. I just know that those are necessary. I wouldn't feel safe without being able to hide. I don't feel safe now. All the alarms are ringing in my mind. I should stop this conversation now.

"Who is the man inside the mask?" That question was so profound. What does she think she'd find? Are her words in anger again, like when the girl died? Her eyes are only inches away from mine. They are roving over my face, watching.

"Aren't you afraid?" I ask. She just wants me to tell her what she wants to hear. That I'm a cold-blooded stone, oblivious to any pain. She wouldn't be the first. I stare down at the floor. I want to be anywhere else than here. I thought she was my friend. I thought-- She lifts my head.

"Wh-What is there to hide, Jack?" she asks. I already knew what I would say.

I say as calmly as possible, "What if, beneath this mask, is someone you don't want to know? A deranged, soulless maniac who doesn't care who dies as long as the ends are to his liking. Completely devoid of emotion. Someone who'd shoot anyone if their death would save two other lives. Who didn't care when his wife died. Who--"

Her finger slams down on my lips. I have more to say. I want to tell her that I hated her. That I had no feeling for her. That I should have shot her point blank earlier when I had the chance. Of course, none of this would be true. But maybe it would spare her pain. When I die, she could say, "Good riddance." She takes her finger off my lips. I can say what I want to say, but something suppresses all the hateful words I thought earlier. I'm dying, and I can't tell her I hate her; I can't tell her I love her. I turn away.

She grasps my shoulders and pull me back. I could leave. I really could. I should step out the door and not look back. I'm scared, not that I'd ever admit that. "R-Renee..." I rasp.

She's crying. I knew it. I'm making her cry. It's me. It's the fact that I'm dying. She says, "This is the man beneath the mask. I'm staring at a man who is brave. Who fights even when everything is against him. I'm looking at a man who is strong, still standing even as a tornado wreaks havoc inside."

My eyes are getting wet. But I can't cry. I blink, trying to dissolve any tears. Renee lifts the shirt off my back. I'm startled. What does she think she's doing? But I'm so helpless. I don't stop her. She drops it to the floor, crumpled in a heap. Like me: crumpled. She traces a path down my chest. She says quietly, "I'm looking at a man alone. He who carries sad memories like invisible wounds. Who is putting a calm face to a torrent of fear. Who is slipping away into the dark."

My hand grasps her wrist, her hand that is resting on my chest. Stop! Stop! I feel a tear slide down my cheek. I'm angry at myself, for letting her see that. This has to end now. She moves her hand across my chest to rest in the middle, right over my heart. We're going too far. She continues, " I'm feeling a man with passion. He wants so desperately to do what's right, to make himself count for something. I feel a soul underneath this mask. A heart so burdened, but beautiful. A living, breathing heart..."

She started crying again. I wrap my arms around her. She can't be sad, not for me. I try to comfort her, rubbing my arms up and down her back, hoping to soothe her. Renee walked into my life only this morning, and yet she knows more about me than most people find in a lifetime. I'm glad she knows. She knows who I am, that I'm not a monster. That my heart breaks like it's broken now. "I just want to be free..." I say.

She looks up into my eyes. I almost fall completely apart then. It tore me to see her face so pained, full of sorrow. "You can't let go, Jack. Don't give up. Never let go," she pleads between sobs. I want to tell her that I won't. That I'll take the treatment. I'll take the chance. But I can't. I can't take that risk. She presses her other hand to my cheek, and pulls closer to me.

On impulse, I kiss her. No! I pull away. This can't happen. I'm dying. But I forget everything else when she kisses me back. I'm lost to this world. I'm dying, and she is my last kiss. I never want it to end.

But I'm dying. That seems to come to mind a lot. The next seconds fly by in a blur. Renee wants to debrief me. I nod. Nothing really sticks in my memory. All I see is Renee.

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So, what did you think? R&R.