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...
As Jack crept through the hallway of the Heller house, he remembered how he'd felt as an eighteen-year-old kid on his way to his father's study to announce that he'd enlisted. He'd been nervous then – his heart had been hammering in his chest and he'd struggled to force his breath into a slower rhythm, because the last thing he'd wanted was for his voice to shake – but he'd also been excited. Excited because he had his whole life ahead of him and he thought maybe he'd found his place in the world, and maybe even excited, in small part, to see the look on his father's face when he realized that there was nothing he could do to stop this. Jack remembered walking slowly down a hallway much like this one, realizing that the next time he walked through it, he'd be carrying his duffel bag on his shoulder, probably never coming back. Already he'd felt like a stranger in the house where he'd lived his whole life as he walked past each painting on the wall and noticed details he'd never seen before.
The older Jack walked as slowly as his younger self, but he was calm and, as the familiar weight of his gun in his hand reminded him, totally in control. He no longer had his whole life ahead of him, but this time he knew, with absolute certainty, that he had found his place in the world; all he needed to do was take it back. And the look on Heller's face – in a way, that would be the best part. The magma in Jack's chest gurgled playfully, the anger savoring the knowledge that soon, very soon, it would be unleashed. But Jack was patient. He wasn't going to do something stupid and get caught. He allowed himself to glance at the pictures of Audrey on the walls as he walked by – as if he needed any more convincing that his place in life was by her side. He tried not to look at the ones of Heller. If he got any angrier, he'd burn to a crisp from the inside out.
When he was almost at the end of the hallway, Jack let his footfalls get a little louder. Let the old man feel the same dreadful anticipation Jack had endured for months, the knowledge that a threat was coming and there was nothing, not a single thing, he could do to stop it. Jack saw Heller reach for the phone, and he shuddered, a little taken aback by how good it felt to elicit that kind of fear. Then he shook it off and stepped into view, gun pointing out in front of him.
"Put it down," he croaked. "Now."
Heller did it.
The euphoria that flooded through Jack was better than anything he'd ever felt, better than every hit of heroin he'd ever taken combined, a pleasure so powerful that for a second he almost thought it was worth all the suffering that had come before it. Finally, the roles were reversed. Jack was sick and tired of being a helpless victim, fed up with being controlled and manipulated and dismissed and overruled and dehumanized, by his father, by Heller, by Cheng, by nearly everyone at CTU. In that moment he loved his gun more than anything in the world. With this little piece of metal in his hand, he could make people see him, listen to him, fear him even. He could use it like a magic wand to get whatever he wanted. He needed this. Oh, how he needed it.
"Are you here to kill me?" Heller asked, his voice totally, almost unnaturally, even.
The giddiness, which had ebbed a little at the lack of an emotional reaction on Heller's face, returned in full force. Jack had no intention of killing Heller, but hell, if the old man wanted to fear for his life, who was Jack to stop him? "Depends," Jack replied. "Where's Audrey?"
"I told you before, you're not going anywhere near my daughter…"
"YOU do not tell me what to do anymore!" Jack shouted, striding forward until his gun was only inches from Heller's forehead. He hadn't thought the pure pleasure in his veins could get any stronger, but it did, the sweet taste of power mixing with the satisfaction of finally releasing some of his pent-up anger. "Do you understand me?" he continued, each word taking some of the weight off his chest, weight he didn't know he had because he had lived with it for so long. "You. Do not tell me. What to do." God, how he'd longed to say those words for twenty agonizing, interminable months, how he'd craved the sensations that were mixing with his blood and making him feel alive again. How good it felt to be able to yell and vent and, hell, even just talk again, say whatever was on his mind, without policing his own thoughts, without fear, without any kind of punishment, and to have someone who would listen, whether he wanted to or not, because he had no choice. How good it felt to be free!
"I just watched my father die," Jack rasped. "And I felt nothing." He wasn't sure why he'd said it, whether it was for his own sake or for Heller's. Whether he was trying to intimidate, or to remind himself why he was here, or just to convince himself that the statement was true. Or maybe he just said it because he was thinking it and it felt good to stop analyzing everything and just unburden himself for once. "Do you know why?" It was a rhetorical question, but Jack still took a second to see if Heller reacted before answering it. "Yeah, you know why. Because that man was dead to me years ago."
…
Kim had chosen to sit with Teri's family at the funeral. Jack didn't blame her; on the contrary, he'd supported the choice. It was only right that he should sit apart from everyone else, not participating, just watching the harm he'd done to those he loved. Like Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Present, except this wasn't a novel; this was real, and there was nothing he could do to fix it. He'd let Kim and Teri's family plan the whole event; he wasn't going to give a eulogy; he'd even considered not coming, just getting out of everyone's way and letting them grieve in peace, but he'd thought better of it. The reason was selfish and cowardly and base: he didn't want to remember his wife as the pale, bloody corpse he'd held in his arms and covered in his tears as he'd sobbed his regret into its neck. He needed to see Teri again as she'd been in life, peaceful and beautiful.
It was a delusion, a comfort he didn't deserve, and he'd hated himself for wanting it and hated himself even more for allowing himself to have it. So he'd convinced himself he'd come because he deserved to be reminded what exactly he'd done when he pushed Teri away and crawled into bed with a monster. He deserved to remember how innocent and good Teri was, how many lives she'd enriched, how the world without her was dark and colorless and evil and full of Nina Meyerses and, even worse, Jack Bauers.
His little plan of solitary penance fell apart when a hulking figure slid into the pew next to him.
Everything about Phillip Bauer was overbearing, from his enormous height to the powerful smell of cologne that made Jack gag as soon as he smelled it to the awkward hug in which Jack now found himself trapped. The embrace was both cold and overly forceful, both detached and stifling, and Jack winced in pain as his father's large weight pressed against the still-healing gunshot wound in his side. Jack hadn't been hugged by his father in almost twenty years, so the gesture put him even further on edge than he already was; he felt more as though he were being smothered with a pillow than comforted. He wanted to push away, but his arms were pinned tightly to his sides, and all he could do was listen to the chorus of empty platitudes ("I'm sorry for your loss, Jack") from his father, from Graem, from Marilyn and wonder what the hell they were doing here. He hadn't invited them, and he was sure Teri's family hadn't either.
When he was finally released and could breathe again, he opened his mouth to say something, only to notice that they'd brought little Josh with them. He was so small and serious in his little black suit and he looked so much like a male version of Kim at that age that Jack couldn't help but think of his unborn child, and suddenly he had neither the heart nor the energy to send his family away. He'd just stand here and take whatever they threw at him, because chances were he deserved it anyway.
"Why isn't Kim sitting with you?" Phillip asked, turning his head left and right in exaggerated motions as he looked for his granddaughter.
"It's better this way," Jack mumbled. It wasn't any of his family members' business and they wouldn't understand anyway.
"You sure, Jack?" Graem piped up. "Maybe we should go talk to her. I mean, families should stick together, especially in times like these. It's important."
"Just leave her alone, Grae," Jack growled bitterly. The gall this man had to talk about families sticking together. The same man who'd taken every chance growing up to throw Jack under the bus, when Jack had always done nothing but stick up for him.
Phillip cleared his throat. "So, Jack, have you thought about whether you're going to keep working for the government after this?"
Jack could see where this was going, and he could feel his heart beginning to race in his chest, slamming against the deep bruises the Drazens had given him. "No, dad, I'm not going back. And yes, I know this is my fault, and I know it never would have happened if I'd worked for BXJ. Don't you think I know that? But go ahead. Gloat. That's why you're here, isn't it? To kick me while I'm down? So say whatever it is you want to say to me, and then get out and stop pretending you care about Teri or me or anyone else except yourself!"
The outburst left Jack shaking with barely contained emotion. He didn't want to admit to wishing he'd just joined the stupid company, even though he would have been miserable there, because the weight of that misery paled in comparison to the overwhelming grief of losing Teri. But if that was what it took to get these people off his back, maybe he'd do it.
Phillip exchanged badly acted shocked glances with Graem. "Jack, you're being irrational." 'Irrational' was one of Phillip Bauer's favorite words, an accusation hurled at Jack throughout his childhood whenever he had dared to express his emotions, his frustrations, or any hint of vulnerability. "All I did was ask you a question, that's all. I wanted to know what your career plans were. I just don't want you to be unemployed and mope around the house all day, because that's not healthy. Think about what kind of example that would set for Kim."
Jack's patience wore thin, his voice dripping with exasperation. "Look, I don't need your advice on how to raise a child, okay?" he snapped, resenting how his father was always prodding, always pushing his buttons. His frayed nerves were being pulled back like rubber bands, and if this didn't stop soon, they would snap.
Phillip held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I get it, Jack. It's tough finding a job when you're grieving. I just think you should have a plan for the future, that's all."
Finally, there was silence. Jack slumped back in the rigid pew and listened to the blood pounding in his ears. Marilyn played nervously with the hem of her dress. Phillip and Graem exchanged meaningful glances. Josh kicked his legs back and forth in a steady rhythm.
"You know, Jack," Phillip finally spoke, "I'm sure we could make room for you at BXJ. You could pick your own hours, get back on your feet…"
Jack could have laughed with relief. Was this all this was? They were just trying for the millionth time to manipulate him into joining the all-important family business? Maybe this would be over faster than he'd hoped. He'd simply tell them in no uncertain terms that he wasn't interested, and maybe, just maybe, they'd finally leave him alone.
"No, Dad," Jack replied, standing up from the pew so that for once he was the one looking down at his father, his tone firmer than it had been all day.
Phillip raised an eyebrow. "No? And why not?"
Jack stared him straight in the eye. "Because I don't think it's in good taste to exploit the death of my wife to try and coerce me into doing what you want."
"Wow," Phillip breathed in mock astonishment, standing up so that his tall form loomed over Jack's smaller build. "Is that how you respond to generosity? You're too proud to accept my help and so you pretend I'm being malicious? Well, why don't you look in the mirror, Jack? All you've ever done is break your family apart, push your loved ones away when they're trying to help you. Defying me every chance you got when you were young. Going on this silly army crusade, your little act of teenage rebellion that you kept up even into your thirties. Making Kim sit over there when she needs you to be there for her. Not to mention Teri almost divorced you because–"
"Jack." It was a whispered plea from Marilyn, who had been silent throughout the whole conversation, but who had noticed the blood rushing to Jack's face with every word, the clench in his jaw, the way his gaze intensified and his hands had tightened into white-knuckled fists as he listened to the tirade. But it came too late. Jack's fist was flying through the air and slamming into his father's face before he knew what was happening. Even though Jack's hands were shaking and the room around him was spinning with dizzying speed, the punch landed squarely in his father's chin, snapping his head sideways and sending him staggering into Graem, who had stood up just in time to catch him.
"Get out," Jack spat. "Get out and don't talk to me about marriage or parenting or anything else ever again."
Phillip straightened up slowly, placing a hand on Jack's shoulder that Jack swatted away. "Okay, Jack. If you want to keep driving your family away, then so be it." He straightened his suit jacket and tie. "But this is all on you. All of it. And you'd better remember that when you finally realize you've isolated yourself from everyone who ever cared about you. Because by then it'll be too late."
Jack looked into little Josh's frightened eyes, and a twinge of guilt pulled at his gut. He turned his head to follow the small group trudging out of the church and noticed, for the first time, that everyone was staring at him. His head swiveled automatically toward Kim, seeing her avert her eyes, but not before he read the look in her face. "Who are you?" her expression seemed to say. "And what have you done with my father?"