Michelle's sobs subsided shortly after they started, but she continued to cling onto Jack. Something had changed in the atmosphere, she could sense it as she could feel it. Jack had held her with hesitation, then suddenly she realised she didn't need the contact but he did. His grip had tightened and didn't let go, even when Michelle had clearly gotten hold of her emotions.

The realisation upset her, that all it had taken was human contact to make him think differently. How could he have ended up here, she thought, as she stood deadly still in his embrace, not daring to move away until he was ready. She sniffed again before whispering the word, "sorry." If he had heard her he didn't react. As her hands bunched the back of his shirt tighter she suddenly felt guilty for coming here, hoping he could fix her problems, when he was clearly broken himself. Closing her eyes she started rocking back and forth on her feet hoping to give him some kind of comfort, knowing that he needed her as much as she needed him.

Eventually Michelle stopped moving and Jack instantly moved away, feeling embarrassed when he instantly missed the contact, and annoyed that he had let his defences down. Michelle had been upset, he told himself, she needed his help, that's all it was. But the lie wouldn't be bought too easily, and deep down he knew he had needed it too.

But what now? Tony would still be in jail and she'd have to deal with it as best as she could. He would continue to be alone and so, he decided, would naturally shoot up some more to keep himself company. He rubbed his tongue along his teeth as he thought about the drugs displayed openly in the living room.

"Maybe you should go, Michelle, this isn't helping either of us." She knew he was lying, his voice cracked as he spoke. He wanted her to stay, wanted to pour his soul out for her to see, maybe confession could end the visions which haunted him. Heroin was the only release he could find, but it wasn't enough. When he saw Michelle watching him with pity in her eyes, he felt it reflect in his own. What was wrong with him, why was he feeling like this when he didn't deserve to feel anything?

Michelle said nothing, she stood motionless as she watched the conflict play out in his eyes. Sinking down into a chair at the table Jack held his head in his hands, hoping she wouldn't be able to see his thoughts this way. His eyes welled with tears, where had this come from?

He'd happily resigned from CTU knowing he was going to stay at home and get high until one day he rode a wave too high and overdosed. He knew the ghosts would never stop chasing him so why was he now questioning the temporary protection the heroin provided him? He didn't deserve to hide, to forget, so why did he feel so helpless when this dawned on him? Was he really so selfish to want something more than the life he resigned himself to? More importantly, he wondered, why did his defences and drugged ideology suddenly crumble after Michelle arrived? She didn't need him, she didn't want him, so what had changed?

Was he that lonely?

Rubbing a hand through his hair he felt nauseas, if the heroin was so good to him why did he feel some sort of hope at the thought of somebody coming to see him? Getting angry with himself he stood up again and started pacing the small room, aware of the eyes following his every move. Why was he wanting more than the drug, why was he suddenly hoping for anything from this life? He didn't deserve life, he didn't deserve death, and he certainly didn't deserve comfort.

Comfort.

Is that what the heroin provided? He used to think so, but if that was so then he didn't deserve that either. He did submit to it, he fixed when he needed to fix, floated when it demanded he float… the drug controlled him. It offered him numbness, which he couldn't deny was a comfort, but, he reasoned, if he'd never taken that first hit, he wouldn't be hooked. Slamming his fist down on the counter Jack realised he wasn't comforted by the drug anymore, he was trapped.

Michelle flinched as Jack struck out but said nothing, somehow it made Jack feel worse, so he started talking, anything to get rid of her and the images and realisations his mind had conjured up since her arrival.

"I can't do anything, we both know that. Tony's going to have to serve his sentence."

The topic surprised Michelle, but then she felt the familiar burst of pain in her head at the thought of her husband in prison, because of her, and was knocked off guard for a moment. Jack was blatantly staring at her, and Michelle instantly realised what he was trying to do, lead her off of the track, distract her from other matters - his matters. It wasn't going to work. Then again, she thought as she felt herself begin to tear once more, maybe she would.

"I know," she whispered, looking down to hide the forming tears. Somehow the fact that she'd been sobbing in his arms minutes earlier didn't register. Something about being helpless before him felt wrong, not when he clearly needed help too. She couldn't do that do him.

"Then why come here," he asked, his exhaustion shining through his voice as he held his hands out to emphasise his point.

"I had to," she replied feebly, "I wanted to."

Shaking his head Jack tried to block out her words, "I can't help you," he said bluntly.

Whispering Michelle took another step forward, "then let me help you."