Jack began to pace the room. His inner turmoil was beginning to agitate him. Michelle was seated patiently, waiting for him to speak, and he was wiling to admit that her presence was a comfort. But his stomach ached and his temperature was rising. With Michelle he saw comfort, albeit temporary, but the drugs would offer him numbness. His head was a mess, he sat down again, feeling weaker than ever.

"I'm sorry about Tony," he said softly.

Michelle nodded her head. "I'll work something out, I'm not giving up on him."

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to do more. Maybe if I'd been better, during the trial, I could have helped, instead of screwing up so much."

"That wasn't your fault. Both you and my legal team advised me your presence wouldn't help. I just wasn't willing to listen to any advice. I guess I thought you could fix things, it was stupid of me, really."

Jack said nothing more. She was right, it was wrong of her to think he could automatically fix things. He had failed Tony. He had failed himself, again.

"Michelle, I think you better leave now."

Michelle stared at him, her eyes curious, concerned, worried. "I'm not leaving you Jack, not now. Do you need to shoot up?"

Jack looked down at his hands but Michelle could sense the shame radiating from him as he slowly nodded his head. In defeat or acceptance she wasn't sure, but he didn't seem as resigned to his fate as he had earlier. Maybe she had made him re-evaluate his things, she hoped so.

"Don't do this."

Jack smiled sadly. "Right now, I don't have any choice. I have to get high. It's only gonna get worse if I wait."

"I'm not talking about your next shot, I mean the addiction in general."

Jack cocked his head to one side, quizzical. "I can't just snap my fingers and be clean, it takes time, too much damn time."

"You went about rehab all wrong," she blurted out. "Things were a mess at CTU, you were sent away, it wasn't right. You need people to help you, during the process, and afterwards."

"I don't want any help."

"You need help."

Jack smiled. "Maybe I do, but I that doesn't mean I want it. I made this bed, and so I have to lie in it. I started shooting up again, nobody else made the decision for me. It's not right that I drag others through this. Besides," he added bitterly, "I have nobody."

"You have me."

"No offence Michelle, we're friends and all, but I'm not sure-"

"You're lonely Jack. Kim's gone who knows where, and you have nothing left. You shut your friends out, but I'm not just stepping aside to watch you waste away."

Jack's patience was wearing thin. "And then what? What happens when I'm clean, and something goes wrong? Do I come running back to you to hold my hand? It wont work Michelle."

"What happens when something goes wrong now, and you get too high, and never come back down?"

Jack just stared at her, offering no response, and Michelle gasped. "Do you want to die? Jesus… Jack, are you suicidal?"

"I don't deserve to die," he spat, "and no, I'm not suicidal, I'm an addict, and right now, I really need to tend to my addiction. Please leave."

"I'm going nowhere."

"Then please excuse me."

Jack headed to the living room, and closed the door behind him, through Michelle hadn't left the kitchen table, she was resting her head in her hands against the wood. Jack picked up the drugs from where he had left off before he was disturbed and quickly fixed. His hands shook and he realised he had left it way too long. He closed his eyes as the familiar warmth spread through him, but no numbness joined the warmth today, no relief, no joy just pain, disgust; not at the drug itself but how low he was to actually deserve this filth.

He heard a soft tap against the door but ignored it. Michelle slowly pushed into the room, packed up the heroin kit left on display over the coffee table and pushed it to one side. She leaned down before Jack, on her knees so they were the same height.

"Now gonna throw my stash, are you?" His voice slurred.

"No," Michelle said sadly, "that's your job, I can't make this decision for you. But I can be here for you."

Jack heard a sniffle and opened his eyes to see her perched before him, tears in her eyes. He looked away and she placed her hands on his knees softly. "Oh Jack," she whispered, before a tear fell from his own eyes and they misted over.

"I'm sorry" he muttered, and she got up and seated herself besides him, leant towards him and gently placed her arms around him.

"You don't have to apologise for any of this." She felt herself start to cry, for the first time since her husbands arrest the tears were for someone else.

"I'm so sorry," Jack said, and he felt his face moisten from his own tears.

"I'm so sorry too," she whispered as she held him tighter, feeling him lean in towards her touch.

"It's gonna be okay," she said.

"I don't want to be like this," Jack whispered, after a slight sob escaped him, "I can't help it."

"It's going to be okay," she said, "I can help you. I want to help you. You can beat this."

Jack reached his arms out and returned the hug, his hands clinging to her shoulders.

"Thank you," he said, "thank you."

He drifted away shortly afterwards, his body went slack but Michelle didn't let go of him, instead she continued to whisper assurance in the unconscious ear.

"You're going to get through this, you're not alone anymore."

The End.