One week later.

Jack grabbed the phone and took it with him, as he went into the bedroom. He carefully locked the door to the apartment and the door to the bedroom, since he'd be defenseless for the coming hours.

He pulled the curtains closed and put the things to the bedside table. The vial, the phone, a new syringe and the rubber band. After taking off his shirt, he examined his left arm. It looked horrible. He could see numerous spots where he'd stung the needle into his skin, some had a bruise around them, when he'd stung through the vein or had missed it somehow. The bruises needed longer to heal. The other spots were gone within a day or two.
In the past few days, he had improved his technique. No more fresh bruises.

He slowly sat down and tied the rubber band around his upper arm. The past days had showed him how important it was to do this. He needed to be able to shoot up without getting himself bruised. He needed to be able to do the simple things – like fixing that rubber band round his arm, without looking clumsy or inexperienced.

The past week had given him back his confidence.

He took the vial and drew two milliliters into the syringe. The vial was almost empty by now, but that didn't matter. Tomorrow, he'd get a new one.

He had a look at his wristwatch. Four minutes to five.
He wanted to be precise. Five o clock. Audrey would call at five twenty.

Making sure that she phone wasn't set to mute, he lay down, placing it next to him.

She was the only one who knew.
She was the only one he talked to, at all.
During the past week, his contacts with CTU had become less and less. He was slowly drifting over to the 'undercover' mode, communicating with them only through the back channels that they'd opened for him.
But he talked to her, every evening.

Tomorrow morning, he'd have to give Tony the phone, the secure line. No more calling Audrey.
It made him sad to think about that.
He'd miss talking to her, he knew that already. Down in Mexico. But now, now that he had really become hooked on that stuff, that was just one more thing on the list, that actually parted him from her. He already felt the first withdrawal symptoms, he'd had them for an hour or two already. Two more minutes.

Within the past week, he had successfully increased his tolerance limit. From 0.5 to 1, to 1.5, then to 1.75 and ever since three days he was at 2 milliliters. And at the same time, the time that it knocked him out got shorter and shorter. In the beginning, he had been at 45 minutes, then at 30, and even though he was still increasing the dose, the time until he'd be back up from the initial rush was decreasing.

She had said that she'd call him at five twenty. If he didn't answer the call, once more, at five twenty five. Afterwards, she'd tell him the time when she believed him to be sane again.
Why was she even doing this for him?
He knew, he didn't deserve it, but he needed her help to do this. He could only hold this under control if there was one clean person watching him, telling him about the effects that the drugs had on him.

It was five o clock. Time to go.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Hey

Hey…

Jack?

u-hm

how're you feelin?

Greeeeeat… Come on, get a grip of yourself, talk normally! Is this … first or … second call?

The first one. She smiled. Yesterday, he'd answered at the first call, but he hadn't really been able to say one word. Today, he was in a better shape. I'm proud of you.

He smiled, lying there, his eyes still closed. He didn't know why he was smiling, but something was wrong in what she'd said. Had it been a joke? Thanks

What's 7 times 8?

56, he answered, smiling widely. He didn't have to work it out in his head – he knew the answer by now, by heart. She always asked him the same question, every day, like a running joke. Probably he'd be able to answer 7 times 8 in an even worse state, from now on.

Can you stand up?
He wouldn't stand up voluntarily, in that state. But she had to challenge him.

No.

Try it.

Obediently, he followed the orders that the friendly voice gave him. He rolled over, getting to his hands and knees, then he climbed off the bed.

A few seconds later, Audrey heard something rumble. Jack?

He didn't answer.

Jack? she asked again.

It took a while until he found the phone, that had slipped out of his hands. hey

What's going on? she asked.

He was sitting at the floor, next to the bed. It had been too early, to try to stand up. Somehow, his knees had given in. He crawled over to the nearest wall and leant against it.

Are you alright?

Yeah, I am.

Where are you?

I'm sitting on the floor.

She could still hear it in his voice- it sounded strange. But with every other minute, he recovered more and more. In a few minutes, he'd almost be back to normal. Maybe ten minutes more and he'd be able to move his body like nothing had happened. Watching his progress over the course of the past week, she had really learned a lot about drug intoxication. And she guessed that he had learned the same things, treasuring them as his life-insurance, when he'd go down to Mexico.
His aim had been to reach a dose of two milliliters, which wouldn't knock him out for more than half an hour. They had almost reached that point.

She gave him a few more moments, before she asked Jack?

Yes?

Who are you working for? She had started a few days ago, to ask questions which they'd might ask. He needed to answer the right things, even in an intoxicated state.

Nobody.

Wrong. You work for CTU.

No.

But you have worked for CTU.

Long time ago.

Are you still an agent?

No.

Stop lying.

I'm not lying.

When was the last time you worked for CTU?

Two and a half years ago.

Wrong, we know that you worked for them in July.

Only for a day.

Still, you lied.

That day doesn't count.

Well, it does. You lied.

No, I didn't.

Why did you go back for that one day?

Bad mistake.

I asked you why!

They wanted me to find a nuke in L.A. I didn't want my own ass to get blown up.

You could have left the city.

Yes.

Why didn't you just leave the city?

My daughter was still in the city.

So you have a daughter?

Yes.

Where is she?

None of your business.

We know that she's working for CTU.

And?

Aren't you proud of her?

Why?

That she's working for the government?

I told her not to. She wouldn't listen. She doesn't even talk to me.

I don't believe you.

Better do.

Why doesn't she talk to you?

None of your business.

Answer the question!

She hates me.

Why does she hate you.

She holds me responsible for the death of her mother.

Are you?

Yes.

Why did you come here?

There are charges waiting for me. Had to leave the states.

What charges?

Possession. Prison break.

Prison break? Why?

I got away during a transport.

What had you been in jail for?

Possession.

Possession makes you go in for a year only. You wouldn't be so stupid to run from a one-year sentence.

Nobody puts me in prison.

Why?

None of your business.

Your name is Jack Bauer, is that right?

Yes.

You are a federal agent.

No.

You have been a federal agent.

Yes.

You will be a federal agent again.

No.

She hated to question him like that. But after all, he did quite well. He made no mistakes, though she could tell that his brain was still heavily influenced. Sometimes, he had been slow to answer some of these questions – especially the unpleasant ones, the ones about his daughter and about the death of his wife – but now the answers came, quickly and above all, correctly.

Stand up. She ordered him.

He tried once more, holding on to the cabinet next to him. It worked, this time. He wondered, how much time had passed… what's time?

28 minutes past five, she said, looking onto her wristwatch.

He made a few steps, it worked. He went over to the only window in here, looking outside. The parking area in front of the building was still empty. Nobody in sight. That was good.
Tiredly, he pulled the curtains closed again and went back to the bed.

She wanted to give him a few more minutes to recover. You did well, she silently said, referring to the questions.

He had a look at his wristwatch. Now it was five thirty. He was up on his feet again, and there was no new bruise in the crook of his arm. We made it, he sighed.

Yes. She didn't know what else to say. He had reached his goal.

He heard cars honking, on her end of the line. Where are you?

I'm at a parking lot, somewhere downtown. It was Nine thirty in the evening. Pretending to drive to her favorite Chinese take-away restaurant had been the only option to get out of the house, without drawing Paul's attention.
Thank god, Jack didn't ask her any questions about it.

They had talked, every night, the whole week long. They both knew the mission plan – and, that it would be their last conversation, tonight.

Where will you be tomorrow night? she finally asked.

In county jail. I'll meet Tony in the morning to say my final goodbye and then I'll drive to Pacoima, to buy some drugs. Police will arrest me there.

Take care she breathed. She wanted to tell him so much more, but she didn't dare to. She wanted to tell him that she really admired him, for everything that he was doing, and especially for how he was doing it.

I will he softly answered. The tone of her voice had said so much more than her words. He hoped that she'd hear him as well. I owe you a lot, Audrey.

No, you don't.

I do. But me no buts.

Even when she wasn't saying anything, he loved to know that she was there, somewhere, with the phone in her hands, listening.

So… I guess this is goodbye, she said. She was glad that he wasn't here, in the car. So he didn't see that a silent tear ran down her cheek.

Yeah, I think so.

Well then… bye, Jack.

Bye, Audrey.
He didn't know if he'd ever see her or ever talk to her again. He didn't have the heart to hang up. And so didn't she. For some endless minutes they were on the line, but no-one said anything.

So you'll go cold turkey, tomorrow? she finally asked.

He smiled when he heard her voice again. She was prolong their conversation, by any means. No, I'll smuggle a pack of methadone into there.

What if they take it away from you?

They have orders not to. From CTU.

What?!

He smiled, and lay down again. He still felt tired, and bushed. I'll use them to trade with some other inmates. To get some contacts to the Mexican scene.

And you'll use a few of them for yourself, she commented.

Yeah. You know… I can now even do it with them watching… they know government protocol. They'll be sure by then that I'm no federal agent, when I'm… you know, sharing my drugs with them.

She had to admit that he was right. Are you feeling better than a week ago?

In what way?

I remember, when we first talked, you were worried that your cover could blow any moment down there.

I know.

Are you still?

He took his time answering, thinking about it. Finally, he said no.

Really? One hundred percent sure?

Yes.
He had his self-confidence back. Either, it were the drugs, or it was the mere fact that the only thing, that had really threatened him: that he'd have a weak spot – was gone. I don't have that blind side any more.

She answered nothing, after noticing that he was in the right mind-set to go. One day before the start of his mission, she swore to herself, she wouldn't bombard him with the doubts that she still had. Now there was no back any more, and all she could still do for him was to bolster him up, not discomfort him.
Promise me one thing.

What?

That you'll come back in one piece.

He had to smile, hearing that. I'll give my best. I'm not suicidal, Audrey.

Thank god, you're not, she sighed. She had to say this, I'll call Tony Almeida every once in a while to make sure you're still okay.

That's unfair.

Why?

You'll get to know about me, but I won't hear anything about you.

She smiled when she heard that. She would have wanted to ask him why he was even interested in hearing something about her – but she already knew the answer. He cared about her. Damn it, she couldn't let this conversation get down that road.
I'll be okay, Jack… what the hell could happen to me? she said, instead. Falling from my swivel chair is the worst option.

She made him laugh. I'm glad to hear that. Really, what had he been thinking, when he'd said that…? bad mistake. Don't let this get too personal.

Jack…. she started.

He was afraid that she'd say something that would finally make their conversation get personal, the one thing that he really wanted to avoid. But that tone in her voice… it said so much more than only his name, he could hear it that she cared about him, and his wellbeing.

Yes?

I .. don't know… what to say she stammered.

It's okay. I don't know either.

Silence came back, for a while.

Listen Audrey, I have daughter, her name is Kim.

I know.

Yeah, right. She works at CTU.

I know.

He took a deep breath. If anything happens to me, he began –

No! She couldn't stand to hear that.

Yes. If anything happens to me, he started again, would you tell her I love her?

She had lost the fight against the tears by now. Jack, please…

You don't have to, if you don't want to. … it'd be probably hard for you to explain anyway, why you'd be doing that.
Nobody knew about their conversations. Bad idea, let's drop it.

Okay.

He lay there, eyes closed. Are you crying, Audrey?

She sniffed, no.

Liar.

Caught me.

Please, stop crying, he whispered, there's nothing to cry about. You won't have to talk to Kim anyway. I'll be back.

Really?

Chances are good. Really god. It was no lie. My new cover story is way better than the old one. It's so far off CTU protocol that they'll never me to be an agent.

She had to smile, hearing that.

You saved my life, he tonelessly added.

A cold shower ran up and down her spine. I didn't do anything.

If it wasn't for you I probably wouldn't have had any second thoughts.

So it was me, who got you hooked on drugs?

No. But talking to you reminded me of the real chances. I guess when I talked to CTU, we were so stuck on the protocol, that we disowned reality. That was it. Finally he had found the right words to tell her. You were the only one who I could honestly talk to. Without any sugarcoating.

She didn't say anything.

Thank you, he silently added. He was so glad that she wasn't here. Probably he'd hold her and never let her go. He would have wanted to tell her so much more- that he found she was a great person, that she had a mighty good heart, that he admired her for making her own choices and not always follow protocol… but he didn't. It wouldn't lead them anywhere, and it would sound like a final goodbye that he didn't want to tell her.

It was an honor to me, she finally said. It really was. Take care of yourself. She ended the call, suddenly, before bursting into tears. Not one more word. She wouldn't have been able to take one more word of him.
She sat in the car, the phone in her hands, but she unwillingly had to cry.

What the hell was she crying about?
She couldn't find an answer to it. But nevertheless, she felt endlessly sad now. It felt like there was a stone inside her, pulling her down. And she feared that this feeling wouldn't go away for quite a while.

.

.

.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
WE'RE GONNA JUMP TO 'AFTER DAY 3' NOW!