Sunday evening
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As Jack pulled into Kim's driveway, a wave of nervousness washed over him. It felt strange, even foreign, considering he had seen Kim just two days ago at the rehab center. But tonight would be different. Tonight, it wasn't just her—Chase would be there too. The last time he'd seen Chase was in the hospital, and the memory of that was buried in a haze of drugs that he had taken that day to prepare himself for the meeting. He had visited him only once since… well, since the day he'd been forced to hack off his arm. Jack had apologized too many times to count, but he knew he'd probably do it again tonight. It was unavoidable.
As he walked toward the front door, Jack realized how unprepared he was. He hadn't brought a gift or a bottle of wine. What did one even bring when visiting a daughter who now lived in a house he had bought her, now with a man who had once been his partner and colleague? And then there was Chase's child, Angela, whom Kim had taken on as her own despite not being her biological mother.
Kim had told him Chase had moved in with her, and while she hadn't outright asked for his approval, her eyes had. Of course, it was okay with him. He wanted her to be happy. He also understood that Chase, with only one usable hand, couldn't live alone right now. Jack wanted to support her in that decision.
The sound of a key turning in the lock startled Jack out of his thoughts.
"Hey, Dad," Kim smiled warmly, holding Angela in her arms. "You're early."
"Hi," Jack smiled back, his heart softening at the sight of his daughter. "Want me to come back later?"
"No, silly." She shook her head and playfully tugged at his collar, pulling him inside and locking the door behind them.
From the kitchen, Chase's voice called out, "Kim! Something's boiling over!"
"I'm coming!" Kim called back before quickly handing Angela over to Jack. "Take her," she said hurriedly before rushing off to deal with the chaos in the kitchen.
And just like that, Jack found himself standing there with a toddler in his arms. Angela, wide-eyed, stared at him with a curious expression. Jack could hear Kim and Chase's voices from the kitchen, their light banter over the boiling pot. The scent of dinner filled the house, creating an atmosphere that felt… comforting. Something about holding Angela, about hearing the sounds of cooking and conversation in the background, tugged at Jack's heart. For a brief moment, he was transported back to when Kim had been this small. It felt like home. Like family. A feeling he hadn't experienced in more than a decade.
He slowly wandered closer to the kitchen, standing by the door, watching as Kim and Chase dealt with the mess. Angela, sensing the humor in the room, giggled softly in his arms.
Chase turned, noticing Jack holding his daughter. His jaw tightened, unsure of how to greet his former boss, the man who had once been his partner and who had, not long ago, been a drug addict. Chase didn't know what to say. How could he, after everything that had happened, even find words for their situation? Kim had told him that Jack was okay with him living in the house, but right now it still felt awkward to meet Jack here. He felt like an intruder.
Jack wasn't much more comfortable. His eyes briefly flicked to Chase's arm, still secured in a sling, a constant reminder of that terrible day. He knew it would be a long road to recovery for Chase, but he remembered hearing that the doctors were optimistic about his left hand's return to function.
Trying to break the tension, Jack stepped into the kitchen and looked down at Angela. "She's gorgeous," he said softly, smiling at the little girl.
Chase, relieved by the simplicity of the comment, relaxed slightly. "She is," he agreed, pride swelling in his voice. It still felt surreal to him—being a father, something he hadn't expected until a few months ago when he learned about Angela.
Kim tugged at Chase's sleeve, signaling for him to help lift the pan as she cleaned the stove underneath.
While they focused on tidying up the kitchen, Jack moved over to the couch with Angela. He carefully sat down, cradling the little girl in his arms as she looked up at him with bright eyes.
"I hope you're hungry, Dad," Kim called from the kitchen as she scrubbed at the mess.
"I could eat," Jack replied, though he hadn't felt a proper appetite in weeks—not since detox. In fact, he couldn't quite remember the last meal he had enjoyed. Today he had grabbed a hot dog at a stand downtown before checking out of rehab, but beyond that, food hadn't crossed his mind. "I didn't realize you'd be cooking," he added.
Kim chuckled from the kitchen, her voice light. "I thought we'd surprise you."
While Kim and Chase worked together to clean up the kitchen, Jack turned his attention to Angela, smiling down at her in his arms. "Look at that, Angela," he said in a playful tone, pointing towards the kitchen. "Your dad and Kim are making a big mess." Angela's eyes lit up, her tiny lips curving into a smile as though she instinctively understood that Jack was teasing, even if the words themselves still meant nothing to her.
In the kitchen, Kim and Chase exchanged a glance over the stove, a silent smile passing between them. Chase was relieved—this awkward first encounter with Jack, the man who had once been his boss, his colleague, and who now was his girlfriend's father, was going better than expected. Jack seemed okay with everything—okay with him being here, with him being a part of Kim's life, and, most importantly, okay with Angela. Chase had never imagined Jack in a fatherly role, let alone with kids, but there was something natural about the way Jack handled Angela, something that eased his own nerves.
Kim shared Chase's relief. She could see the tension leaving his shoulders, the worries that Jack might disapprove fading. She herself felt lighter, knowing that her father was okay their relationship or living situation. Everything felt right, like the pieces were finally falling into place.
Half an hour later, dinner was ready, and they sat around the table to eat. Jack remained mostly quiet throughout the meal, happy to just observe the scene. The real focus was Angela, as both Kim and Chase tried to get her to eat. It was a mix of laughter and frustration as they persuaded her to try new foods and stop playing with her dinner, though that battle seemed destined for another messy ending.
For Jack, watching the scene unfold was like slipping back in time. Kim had cooked one of Teri's favorite recipes, a small but thoughtful gesture that he noticed right away. It filled him with a warmth he hadn't felt in years. The sense of family, of belonging, was so foreign and yet so familiar, like returning home after wandering lost for too long. He felt at peace here, surrounded by the little chaos that came with family life.
Once dinner was over, and with Angela's mess threatening to take over the table, Jack offered to help clean up. "I can handle the mess," he said, nodding toward Angela, who giggled as she smeared mashed potatoes across her high chair. "I'll play with her for a bit while you guys take care of the dishes."
Kim and Chase gratefully accepted his offer. Jack could sense their relief, and it took him back to when it had been him, Teri, and a young Kim—a time when he had struggled to balance being in the army and being with his family, never realizing how fleeting those moments of normality would be. Now, holding Angela, playing with her as they cleaned up, he allowed himself to remember without the usual sting of regret. His thoughts flickered back to Audrey, to the night when he told her about Kim's early days, remembering the good times.
Later, they all gathered in the living room, settling around the low coffee table. Angela, exhausted from her evening of play, had fallen asleep in Jack's arms, and he didn't want to wake her. He gently lowered himself into the wingchair, holding her close, while Kim and Chase sprawled on the couch. As Kim snuggled up to Chase, resting her head against his shoulder, Jack noticed how tense Chase became, clearly uncomfortable with showing affection in front of him.
Jack offered a small, reassuring smile, hoping it would ease some of Chase's discomfort. It was okay. He had never pictured Kim with someone like Chase—someone so much like himself. But maybe, in some strange way, that was why it worked. Life had a way of coming full circle, whether he liked it or not.
As they uncorked a bottle of wine, Kim looked over at Jack, her eyes silently asking the question: Are you okay with this? She held the bottle, waiting for his answer. Jack hadn't thought much about drinking lately—rehab had put a distance between him and every drug. He hadn't had a drink in weeks. He remembered throwing even the pack of cigarettes out of the car window, last night. "You guys go ahead.", he said.
Kim poured him a glass of water instead, an understanding passing between them. It was a small moment, but it reminded Jack that despite how peaceful this scene felt, his life wasn't perfect, and it never had been. There were cracks, small reminders that his life had a past that would never go away again. But for now, he was content to sit there, enjoy the light conversation, feel Angela stir slightly at his chest, as Kim and Chase finally got some moments to enjoy being close to each other and not worry about her.
The evening had gone on smoothly, with the group talking for hours, carefully avoiding the topics they all silently agreed were off-limits: Jack's recent drug abuse, CTU, and Chase's ongoing recovery. Instead, they focused on lighter, safer subjects. Jack found himself learning more about Angela's mother, Chase's ex, and though it seemed like Chase was subtly trying to clarify that he had already been separated from her before starting a relationship with Kim, Jack didn't mind. Life, especially for younger people, often didn't follow a straight road—he knew that better than anyone.
They kept to the silently agreed boundaries, but at one point, Jack couldn't help revisiting an "off-limits" subject. It was when the conversation inevitably turned toward CTU. Jack, with a serious look in his eyes, made Chase promise that once his medical leave was over, he would truly hand in his resignation and never look back. The weight of his words hung in the air as he looked directly at Chase and added, "I don't want you to ruin your life the same way I ruined mine."
Chase listened intently, nodding as Jack's words struck home. He could feel the fatherly advice behind them, advice shaped by years of pain and regret. Kim had told him so much about her father, and he knew a good portion from the files he'd read. "I won't," Chase said earnestly. He tightened the grip around Kim's shoulders a little. Not obvious, just subtle. Maybe not even consciously.
Kim, who had stayed quiet during the exchange, met Jack's eyes and gave him a look of quiet gratitude. She knew how much his words meant. She had lived through the consequences of Jack's devotion to his job—the toll it had taken on her childhood, on her family. Her eyes conveyed what she didn't say aloud: Thank you, Dad, for admitting it, and for steering Chase, the man she now loved, away from the same destructive path.
But just as the moment of seriousness passed, reality stepped in again, ripping everyone out of their thoughts and memories. Angela, who had been peacefully sleeping in Jack's arms, suddenly stirred. Jack felt the movement and shifted her slightly, thinking she might just be waking up. But then, without warning, he felt the unmistakable warmth of baby vomit splattering onto his shirt.
Chase's head snapped up the second he saw what happened. "Oh no!" he exclaimed, a mix of shock and embarrassment flooding his face as he glanced at Jack, now covered in Angela's mess. He started to get up, but Kim waved him back down.
"It's okay. You stay put," she said calmly, a hint of amusement in her voice. She got up from the couch with a sense of ease, as if this were becoming second nature. "I'll get a towel."
Chase, still clearly flustered, tried to suppress a chuckle. "Guess she really likes you, Jack," he said, his tone slightly embarrassed.
Jack glanced down at the mess on his shirt, smirking despite the situation. "Seems like it," he replied dryly, though a genuine smile tugged at his lips. It had been years since he'd dealt with something like this, but he found he didn't mind at all. In fact, the chaos felt oddly comforting. He softly patted her back while she was crying.
Kim returned quickly with a towel, handing it over to Jack while she took Angela from him with a natural grace. Jack couldn't help but muse on how Kim had been thrown into this mother role only a few weeks ago. She was a natural talent with Angela, but it was clear she was still adjusting to the daily demands of caring for a toddler. Even so, she handled it with a calmness that impressed him.
"I'm so sorry, Dad," Kim said, wiping Angela's face. "She must have eaten too much. I didn't even see it coming."
Jack started wiping the worst of the mess off his shirt, smiling at how much Kim had grown into this new phase of her life. "It's fine," he reassured her, glancing down at the stained fabric. "I've handled worse. Remember when you were Angela's age and loved tomatoes?" He chuckled softly. "You'd eat them nonstop, but you always threw up on me right after." He took a breath and held it, adding, "Always me. Never your mother."
Chase, still trying to relax into the situation, finally let out a genuine laugh. Kim shot him a look—half amused, half exasperated—before turning back to Jack. "I don't remember," she said, shaking her head with a smile that left both men wondering whether she truly didn't remember or if she was just teasing.
She took the towel from Jack's hands and gently wiped Angela's face clean. Smiling silently at the baby, she said, "What would you do if your dad always let you have your favorite food that your mom doesn't let you have?"
Then, Kim turned to Jack and instructed, "Turn around." She wiped over his shoulder, reaching the parts he hadn't noticed. "You can borrow one of Chase's shirts if you want."
Jack shook his head and handed the towel back to her. "No need, I've got my bag in the car," he said. "I'll go get it."
With that thought lingering, Jack made his way outside, stepping into the cool evening air to retrieve his bag from the car. The family chaos, the comfortable noise of life inside that house, it all felt strangely soothing. He unlocked the car and grabbed his bag from the passenger seat. It was then that he thought about the phone—a small, yet critical detail he'd nearly forgotten.
Protocol was clear: never leave it unattended. And yet, here it was, tucked away in a bag, sitting in a parked car. Jack glanced back toward the house. The door was left slightly ajar, about to welcome him back in.
His thoughts flickered to Audrey. How was she right now?
The end of their call earlier had left him feeling a bit hollow, as if cutting ties with something he hadn't realized had become so important to him. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but Audrey's voice, full of warmth and quiet understanding, had become a constant in his life, a connection he hadn't known he needed. When he told her he wouldn't be there tonight, he'd sensed it—a brief flicker of sadness, a loneliness that mirrored his own.
And now, standing there in the dim light of the driveway, Jack felt the weight of it again. He wanted to call her, to tell her about everything—the dinner, Kim and Chase, the mess Angela had made that strangely didn't bother him. He even wanted to joke about getting covered in baby vomit for the first time in twenty years. But he knew he couldn't.
Audrey had her own burdens, her own unmet dreams, and telling her about this new sense of family would only remind her of what she didn't have. It would hurt her, and Jack didn't want to make her life even more miserable. He had already let her down by cutting their call short earlier. It felt like a cruel thing.
With a quiet sigh, Jack shook his head, grabbed the bag and walked back to the house, pushing aside the urge to call Audrey. Later, he thought. He stepped back into the warmth of the house.
.
.
.
Audrey sat on her couch, wrapped in a blanket, her thoughts tangled around Jack. It was almost 10 p.m. The silence of her empty apartment felt heavier tonight. She hadn't realized how much she had come to rely on hearing his voice, filling the quiet spaces in her life. Now that he wasn't calling, the emptiness seemed to press in, a reminder of how alone she really was.
She glanced at her phone, half-hoping for a message from him, though she knew it wouldn't come. Jack was with his family, where he should be. Still, the ache in her chest grew, a hollow feeling that wouldn't go away.
Suddenly, her other phone buzzed. Audrey reached for it, her heart skipping a beat—only to see Paul's name light up on the screen. It was a long message, an apology. He was sorry for being an ass the other night, for the way he had spoken to her, for everything.
Audrey stared at the screen, contemplating. Should she write back? Or just let it go? A part of her wanted to ignore it, to avoid falling back into old patterns. But right now, the void inside her felt too deep. Even talking to Paul didn't seem like the worst option.
.
.
.
As Jack headed outside to retrieve his bag from the car, Chase and Kim remained inside with Angela. Chase, still processing the evening, finally let out a small laugh. "He's a natural," he remarked, a bit of surprise lingering in his voice as he watched Jack disappear.
"I told you," Kim responded, softly swaying Angela back and forth. A proud smile tugged at her lips. Jack had always been good with her when she was a child, even if some memories of their time together were hazy. She glanced down at the photo album at the table—1985 to 1991—the one Jack had brought along, a relic of their family's past. Kim had been surprised to see it, and though she hadn't asked why he had brought it, she had her suspicions. Maybe Jack was diving into the old memories again, the ones with her mother. It seemed like he was trying to reconnect with those years, perhaps in an effort to heal from everything that had happened since.
Earlier, when all three of them—Jack, Kim, and Chase—had looked through the album together, Kim had been careful. She had deliberately guided them only through the first part of the album, focusing on the happier times. There were plenty of photos from her early childhood, where her parents were still deeply in love, still holding on to the life they had built together. She had skipped over the pages where things had started to go wrong, where the smiles looked forced and the distance between her parents was already visible. She didn't want to dredge up those painful memories tonight, not in front of her father.
As Kim cradled Angela, she placed the album in Chase's lap. Maybe it was time to show him. He could only hold it with his good hand, so she began to turn the pages for him, guiding him through the later sections they hadn't touched earlier. These pages showed a different part of her childhood—many pages with pictures only of her and Jack.
"Where was your mother?" Chase asked, noticing that her mother was missing.
"She was in Italy, three months," Kim sighed, feeling that something during that time had been odd, even though she could barely recall that time consciously. "It was her first job."
The photos from Fort Devens, where Jack had been stationed, stirred a vague sense of familiarity in Kim. She didn't have clear memories of the playgrounds or the toys, but they looked familiar in a way that made her feel connected to that part of her past. The photos told a story that words couldn't.
Chase studied the pictures closely. There was Jack, younger, his hair cropped short in a military style. In one photo, he was still in his battle dress uniform, carrying Kim, clearly on the base. In others, his dog tags peeked out from under his t-shirt. Chase also noticed something else: in some shots, Jack sat awkwardly, or crutches were visible in the background. He looked as though he had been recovering from an injury.
"Was he hurt in the field?" Chase asked, curious about Jack's condition back then.
Kim shook her head. "No, it was some training mission that went wrong. He was at home for more than three months." She paused, remembering what her mom had told her about it. "At least, that's what Mom said." Even as she spoke, a lingering doubt crept in—she had the feeling there had been more to the story than her parents had shared with her.
Just then, Jack returned, his bag slung over his shoulder. Kim quickly flipped the album shut, not wanting him to catch wind of the conversation about the past.
Chase got the message and said nothing further, understanding that Kim didn't want Jack to know they had been discussing him, at least not the parts that made her wonder.
As Jack moved toward the bathroom to change, Kim looked up at him, asking the question that had been on her mind. "Where are you staying tonight?"
He paused for a moment, mentioning that he would check into a hotel, but Kim wouldn't let him. She looked him in the eye, and for the first time, she had her doubts about the stories her mother had told her about her father. The explanation of the training mission gone wrong didn't sit right anymore. After working at CTU for two years, Kim had become familiar with the language used to cover up classified operations. She had the feeling that Jack had always done more for her than she could ever fully appreciate—more than she would ever know, because he simply couldn't tell her.
"If you don't mind going to bed early and being woken up at 05:15," she added with a playful smile, knowing Angela would be up at the crack of dawn.
Jack stifled a yawn. He was more than tired—exhausted, really. He had only slept a few hours that morning in Pacoima after his sleepless night, and now the idea of rest sounded like exactly what he needed. He glanced at his wristwatch—just after 7 p.m. It felt much later. The thought of getting up at 5:15 didn't bother him at all. He was used to early mornings, and right now, the idea of staying here, surrounded by family, felt like the right decision.
He agreed to stay, much to Kim's delight. She felt a quiet joy in knowing that her father, despite everything, was still part of her life, and he could still find comfort in the simple joys of family. She knew he would be a helpful presence in the house too, and she secretly hoped he'd be around more often.
.
.
.
A while later, Jack found himself lying on the couch in the living room. The house was quiet, the only light coming from the dim glow of the street lamps outside, filtering through the curtains. Despite the fact that he had bought this house for Kim years ago, he had never spent a single night here.
During his shower, Kim and Chase had tucked Angela into bed. Jack thought about them as he lay there in the dark—Angela, settled into the study and guest room that had become "her room," and Kim and Chase over in the master bedroom. The house, though perfect for the small family, felt tight for four people. Yet the tightness brought some closeness and cozy warmth, the kind of warmth Jack hadn't experienced in a long time.
His eyes wandered to the photo album lying on the couch table. The memories it held, especially of Kim's early years, were still vivid in his mind. He didn't want to switch on the light to flip through it again. Then his gaze shifted to his bag sitting next to the couch. The phone was inside. Everyone was asleep. He could risk it.
Quietly, Jack reached into his bag, feeling for the phone. He pulled it out, careful to keep it concealed under the blanket, and checked for messages. None. He couldn't bring himself to call Audrey. Not here. Not now. Speaking was too risky.
Instead, he began typing a message, hidden under the covers.
"Are you still up?"
He glanced at his wrist watch. It was 10:30 p.m. in Washington, D.C. She had work in the morning; maybe she was already asleep. Jack couldn't wait long for a reply, though. He could feel the exhaustion from the day, and he didn't want to risk falling asleep with the phone in his hand. That would definitely raise questions in the morning.
He fought the tiredness for a few minutes, hoping for a response, but eventually decided waiting wasn't worth the risk. He typed one more message for Audrey and then tucked the phone back into his bag. The battery was nearly drained, down to the last bit of charge from earlier in the self-storage.
Not long after, Jack he off into sleep—an exhausted, dreamless sleep. But this time, it was a peaceful sleep, the kind of sleep that comes when, even for a brief moment, everything feels like it's in the right place.