Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

~

“It’s already been eight months.” She stared at him with those eyes that were so much like her mother’s. “If-- if he’s still alive, how much longer can he be expected to last? We have to get him out of China now.”

“I know, Audrey,” he told her, holding back a sigh. “I haven’t given up. But these kinds of negotiations are complicated, on multiple levels. There are lots of factors in play here.”

It was the same reason – the same excuse – that he’d been giving her to explain why he hadn’t made any progress for over a month. Judging by her expression, it wasn’t going to hold water any longer. “You say you haven’t given up,” she said, folding her arms, “and I want to believe you. But you haven’t made one trip to China yourself, or even sent a representative who has any real authority. And don’t bring Walter into this – he doesn’t count.”

James acknowledged that point with a raised hand. “All right. I understand you’re frustrated with me, and that’s mostly because you’re worried about Jack. I’m worried about him, too.”

“Then show it.” She took a breath. “And if you don’t, I will.”

It took a moment, and then he felt his heart drop. “What exactly do you mean by that, honey?”

“I mean if you won’t go look for him in China, I will.”

That brought silence between them for almost a full minute, as he tried to process this. He had to be smart here, or he would only make her angrier and more determined. He cleared his throat. “An operation like that would need the help of quite a lot of people if you’re hoping to succeed – not to mention stay out of danger yourself.”

“I’m aware, Dad.” She was angry now. “I’m not going to try to figure it all out by myself. But I can’t just wait around until circumstances are perfect. We owe Jack too much for that.”

James sighed as she stalked out of the room. This was going to require some serious thought. And it wasn’t as if she was wrong, he thought with a pang: they both owed Jack Bauer their lives, along with so much more. Maybe he was being too cautious about this. On the other hand, what would happen if he expended all his effort, and nothing came of it?

~

It took James a week to give in.

Audrey wasn’t speaking to him except when absolutely necessary, but he had discreet sources who kept him updated on her progress toward her goal of finding Jack. Despite the dead ends she kept hitting, she hadn’t shown any signs of discouragement. But she didn’t have access to all the resources he did – and she knew it. Which made him feel more and more certain his refusal to help was going to cause serious damage to their relationship.

He was finishing up work that day when he made his decision. He took a chance, and called his daughter on her personal line. To his relief, she answered.

“Hi, Audrey. I’d like to come over and talk to you tonight. Would that be all right with you?”

“That depends.” Her tone was not extremely warm. “What do you want to talk about?”

“About Jack.”

There was a pause. “All right,” she said, “as long as you’re not still going to try to talk me out of going to find him once I have enough information.”

“No, I promise that’s not why I want to see you.” It wasn’t, although he hoped she would be receptive to his alternate plan.

“Good. Then I’ll see you at seven.”

About an hour later, James went to find his daughter out on her back deck. She was sitting on a deck chair, reading something from a file folder and taking notes. He swallowed, imagining what could happen if her determination led her all the way to China without him. It was not a pleasant image.

“Hi. May I sit?” he said, gesturing to the chair across from her.

She looked up, and nodded once.

He sat down, folding his hands in his lap. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“I am,” she said without hesitation.

“Even though you know going by yourself – or even with a small team – would put you at great risk. You’re a valuable target.”

“Yes, I know that.” She was unmoved – not that he’d expected her to change her mind that easily. “I’m taking that into account.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. There was one other thing he had to say, before he got to the real reason he’d come out here to talk to her. “I suppose you’ve also thought about the fact that if I decided to do so, I could make sure anyone you talked to for help said no. I could stop you from going.”

At that, she gave him a glare. “You could try.”

“Regardless, that’s not what I want to do,” he said mildly.

“Good,” she said, after a moment. “So what is it you want to do?”

Sighing again, James leaned forward. “Audrey, I’ve known for a long time how much Jack means to you. And you’re right: we both owe him our lives, many times over, and he certainly doesn’t deserve to be abandoned in a Chinese prison.”

“Okay.” She met his gaze. “Keep going.”

“The truth is I could be doing more to find him.” He saw the disappointment in her eyes, but went on. “I’ve been held back by a few things. One main thing is the worry that I could expend a great deal of effort and a lot of political capital, and still fail. Then he’d be worse off than he was already, in terms of any chance to get him out.”

Audrey nodded slowly. “I can see that. But if no one even tries, then he has zero chance.”

That was undeniable. “What I’m hearing here is, even if I told you specifically not to go to China, you wouldn’t listen.”

“No. Like I said before: you could try to stop me, Dad, but I would find a way.”

She had always been determined, James thought. He took a breath. “Then let’s work together on this. We’ll be much more effective that way. But Audrey--” he interrupted her enthusiastic agreement, “you have to promise me: if and when we reach the point of traveling to China to get Jack, you will need to do exactly as I say. I will do everything I have to, to keep you safe while we do this. That might mean you end up needing to stay at our base of operation, whether that’s a hotel or an embassy, while I go out and see to Jack’s actual retrieval. Is that clear?”

“Yes. I can agree to that.” She nodded again, her eyes brighter. “Let me show you what I’ve already been working on.”

“Go for it.”

~
Even with both of them fully engaged in the task, it still took three long, frustrating months before they were able to locate Jack and negotiate an agreement to repatriate him. James had been correct: it took a lot of political capital, and he had to concede a few things he wasn’t thrilled about during the negotiations. (This was all in consultation with the President and as few other relevant parties as possible, of course. None of this process was going to be made public, if anyone could help it.) But eventually, through back channels, his office secured a promise from his counterpart in China. And then it was time to go get Jack back.

James reflected multiple times throughout the process how glad he was that Audrey had agreed she would listen to him about her personal safety on this trip. Almost everything about it – aside from the meetings that were the stated reason for the trip, of course – was riskier than he liked. But the part of the process that was the most dangerous by far was when he and his most trusted guards arrived at the prison where Jack was being held.

“Audrey, I know you want to see Jack as soon as possible,” he started, as their motorcade pulled up outside the entrance to the prison grounds. But it turned out he didn’t have to say more than that.

“I know, Dad,” she said, with a tiny smile that faded as she looked at the imposing gate of the facility. “I’ll stay here. Just-- get him out of there as fast as you can. And stay safe.”

“I will.” He squeezed her hand, and then took a deep breath. It was time to do this.

To his relief, although Cheng Zhi made some snide comments as he escorted the American contingent, there were no moves to delay or try to extort anything else from them. In fact, the only delay was caused by Jack himself – because he was unconscious, and therefore had to be carried out on a stretcher.

James had steeled himself as much as necessary, he thought. He didn’t want to give Cheng the satisfaction of witnessing his reaction, no matter how terrible Jack looked right now. But as it turned out, it was only with the greatest of effort that James maintained his composure.

He had seen POWs after their release before. Those memories still occasionally haunted his darkest dreams. But he was sure, after only a few seconds of looking at the man on the stretcher, that this moment would be joining those others in his nightmares. He took a slow breath, and then looked at Cheng with what he hoped appeared to be mild frustration. “I was promised he would be returned in adequate condition such that the trip back to the US wouldn’t be a hazard to his health.”

“I assure you, Mr. Secretary, Bauer is healthy enough,” said Cheng with a smirk. “He’s merely recovering from our final interrogation session earlier today. A few more hours, and he should even be able to recognize you.”

It took all of James’ willpower again not to wipe the smug expression off the man’s face right then, with one well-placed punch. Instead, he said, “In that case, please give our doctor--” he gestured to the medic who had accompanied them inside the prison – “a complete list of any drug you’ve administered to Mr. Bauer recently enough for it to still be in his system, so we can treat him most effectively.”

“Very well,” said Cheng. “We’ll see to it.”

James didn’t start to breathe any easier until the stretcher with Jack on it was loaded carefully into the back of one of the SUVs that was part of the motorcade. The man had stirred several times, and even opened his eyes once, but hadn’t made a sound. Audrey, on the other hand, couldn’t hold back a gasp when she hurried over from the other vehicle and saw him. “Oh my God. Jack.”

“We’re going to take care of him, Audrey,” James assured her. “But first we have to get him out of this country. Dr. Edwards will make sure he’s stable during the trip. In the meantime, humor me and stay in your separate car – just until we get to the plane?”

She tore her gaze away from Jack’s still form. “Fine. As long as his vehicle has just as much protection as the one I’ll be in.”

“We didn’t come all this way to let him slip through our fingers now,” he assured her. “I promise.”

Despite his confident words, James didn’t let out a full breath until all of them were onboard the plane and taking off. But then they were airborne, and on the way home. Audrey was seated next to Jack’s stretcher, which had been secured across a row of seats. Under the cabin lights, the evidence of the mistreatment Jack had endured was even more stark. His hair was long and unkempt, his face was pale, and he was barely more than skin and bones. (Dr. Edwards had started an IV to replenish some of the nutrients he needed, as well as to start a course of antibiotics since the patient seemed to be running a lowgrade fever.) Even the small areas of skin that were visible – the backs of his hands, and near his throat – were scarred. Which could only mean the areas that weren’t visible were much worse. But although it was clear that Audrey was horrified by all this, she continued to sit near his head, so she could stroke her hand through his hair.

Yes, James thought, this had been worth it.

~

As usual, it took him a long time to make his way back to consciousness after the interrogation session. Most of his nerve endings still felt like they were on fire, though that was fading. But there was something else happening. Something different. He wasn’t in his cell, or in any other part of the prison he could think of. He was lying on something … soft. The ambient sounds were entirely different, too, though there was something familiar about them.

Someone was touching him, he realized. But it wasn’t a cruel or unwelcome touch. He struggled, and finally managed to open his eyes.

He didn’t recognize his surroundings at all. Part of that was because it took his eyes a few more seconds to focus properly, but even after they did, Jack still didn’t know where he was. The ceiling was a different color than he expected, and sort of … sloped. He blinked. Why was that almost familiar, too?

There was a rustling sound from right by his head, and the motion of a hand through his hair (that was what that had been – but who--?) stopped. “Jack?” said a voice he had only heard in his dreams for so long. “Are you awake?”

Thunderstruck, Jack tilted his head back as much as he could. She was there. Audrey was there. Which meant this had to be an incredibly strange dream. Didn’t it?

“Hi.” She smiled, when he managed to meet her eyes for a second at that odd angle. But that made his neck hurt (would his neck hurt like that in a dream?), so he tried to reach his hand back toward her. And she took it. His heart stuttered.

A few moments later, still holding his hand, she came over and crouched next to him so they could really look at each other. She was still smiling, although there was a tear on her cheek. “Hi, Jack. It’s-- God, it’s so good to see you.”

He swallowed. She was so beautiful. This all seemed so real. Whether it was or not, he was going to savor it while it lasted.

“You’re on my jet, Jack, in case you’re wondering,” came another voice from close by – another familiar voice that he had not been expecting to hear. “We’re about an hour into the flight back to California from China.”

Jack turned to look across the wide aisle of the plane (because of course it was a plane), and saw James Heller sitting there with a slight smile on his face. He blinked. Then he struggled upright, noticing then that he was on some kind of stretcher and that there was an IV in the back of his left hand. Audrey quickly stood up so she could help support him. A man he didn’t recognize also hurried over.

“Mr. Bauer,” said this man, “please take it easy. You’re still coming off several heavy-duty drugs, not to mention the moderate dehydration, malnutrition, and fever that I’m trying to treat with that IV.”

Jack had no intention of doing anything requiring more effort than sitting up, with his back against the seat. He was far too busy trying to wrap his mind around this. There were several things that made him almost start to believe this wasn’t just a dream or a hallucination – but it was such a risk to believe it. He stared at Audrey, and at Audrey’s father, and then at his surroundings again. If this wasn’t real, it was the cruelest illusion his mind had created for him yet.

“Jack, I’m so sorry,” said Audrey then, drawing his attention back to her face. She sniffled, and wiped a tear from under her eye with the hand that wasn’t still holding his. “I’m so sorry it took us so long to get you out of there. You never should have had to go through this, especially not for all those months.”

She was upset. He needed to say something. If this was one of his better dreams, he would be able to say just what she needed to hear. If it was one of his nightmares, he would only be able to do the wrong thing. He opened his mouth – but instead of either comforting her or somehow causing something terrible to happen, what he ended up saying was, “Is this real?”

Or at least, that was what he thought he’d asked. Audrey blinked at him. “Sorry, Jack – I didn’t quite catch that.”

Of course. He hadn’t spoken in a long, long time. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Is this real?”

At that, her eyebrows rose, and then she gave him a watery smile. “Yes, it’s real,” she said quietly. She squeezed his hand. “I promise it’s real. You’re really out of that place, and when we get back to the US, you’re going to have all the time you need to recover. My father and I will make sure of it.”

“Audrey’s right, Jack,” said Heller, getting up so that he could stand in front of them. “In my backchannel communications with the Chinese, I was assured many times that you never talked – never spoke, in fact. So I don’t believe we’ll have any trouble from anyone making accusations against you. But even if there are,” he went on, when Audrey gave him a significant look, “I promise, you won’t have to face it alone.”

Jack’s eyes burned, but not from any side effects of a drug or anything else. This time it was from unshed tears. This was real. He had to believe it. Which meant his old boss must have risked a fair amount to get the Chinese to agree to release him – and he and Audrey had gone to China personally to get him. He swallowed again. “Thank you,” he rasped, looking from Heller to Audrey. “I-- I can’t even begin--” But then he had to stop, as a sob tried to force its way out of his throat. He brought himself most of the way back under control, although it was a relief to remind himself that these people weren’t going to use his emotions against him.

“Our country owes you more than we can begin to repay,” said Heller in response. “This is the least we could do.”

“What do you need?” Audrey asked then, after a moment’s pause. “Do you want something to drink? Some food? We can get you something easy on your stomach. Right, Dr. Edwards?”

The unfamiliar man who had cautioned him earlier nodded. “We’ll want to start with clear soup, and go from there when we see how you react.”

Jack considered. “I could eat.” He had been constantly hungry for so long, it was going to take some time to get used to being able to eat whenever he wanted. Of course, that was hardly the only thing that was going to take him some time in order to readjust, he thought, with a mixture of dry humor and trepidation. But Audrey and her dad had already promised he wouldn’t have to face any of it alone.

The doctor had said something about getting the food while he was lost in thought just then, Jack realized. But he didn’t think a response from him had been necessary. He looked at Audrey, who smiled at him again. “It’s okay, Jack. I’m here.”

He smiled back, and then let out a long sigh. She was really, truly here. And if that was true, that meant he might just be able to take the risk, and start having some hope for the future again.

~~

Chapter Text

~
Tony stared down at his phone as his pulse pounded in his ears. He couldn’t decide which was worse: the image of his terrified wife held at knifepoint, or the crushing knowledge that he had just let a terrorist escape who was willing to kill millions of Americans. But at least Michelle was still alive right now. There was no way he would have been able to watch her be murdered or maimed in front of him.

Sighing, Tony rubbed a hand over his face. If-- no, when Michelle found out what he just did, how was she going to react? At best, she would be horrified. At worst, she could see him as a traitor.

Before he could stew in his guilt and fear for too long, his phone rang again. This time, Saunders was offering a trade: Michelle for his daughter Jane, who was being brought to CTU at this very moment. Tony heard himself agree to do what he could to make this happen, hating himself even more as he did so. And then he had to lie to an irate Jack and to everyone else, to say that Saunders' escape from the building was a technical error. This was just getting worse – and of course, there was no guarantee Jack wouldn’t see through it before Tony had even gotten Michelle to safety. He’d probably already started to suspect something.

No. He couldn’t let this stand. In the few minutes he had before Jane got here and Saunders called again, Tony had to do something. Michelle … Michelle would want him to. And he could still keep her safe. Jack would understand all too well where Tony was coming from. Wouldn’t he?

Before he could second-guess himself again, Tony called Jack on his private line. It gave him a jolt of anxiety as well as relief when Jack answered after just one ring. “This is Bauer.”

“Jack.” He took a breath. It was too late to back out now.

“Tony? What is it?”

“I need your help.” There. That was a start.

There was a pause. “What do you need? I’m about to get in the car to come back to CTU with Jane Saunders.”

“Stephen Saunders has Michelle.” Saying the words out loud somehow made him feel even worse, if that was even possible. “That’s-- that’s why you didn’t find him in the building.”

Another pause. “You better explain exactly what you mean right now,” said Jack, with an edge to his voice that made Tony wince. But Tony couldn’t hear nearly as many sounds in the background of the call anymore, either. Maybe he had moved at least a little further away from everyone else, which was something.

“He called me. He showed me a live feed of Michelle at knifepoint.” Tony sighed again. “And then he gave me thirty seconds to give the order to move the team off one of the exits so he could escape. Now he wants me to take his daughter so we can do an exchange: Jane for Michelle.”

There was an even longer silence then. Tony swallowed. “Look, Jack, I know I’ve messed this up. But I’m telling you now, before this gets any worse. I just want to save Michelle and stop Saunders from killing anyone else.”

“I understand,” said Jack at last, sounding much less angry. “You know I understand. And I’m glad you told me now. We can work with this. We’ll figure out a solution together.”

“I already almost lost Michelle once today,” Tony reminded him, his voice rising. “I can’t do it again. Please.”

“I will do everything possible to get Michelle out of this alive,” Jack said without hesitation. “But we can’t just hand Jane over to her father. We need her to lure Saunders out into the open.”

“Saunders will kill her if he sees I brought CTU with me to the exchange!” Tony realized he was yelling, and tried to lower his voice.

“He won’t know. Not until it’s too late.” There was another voice on the other end, and Jack said something in response while he (Tony guessed) had his hand over the phone. “I have to get back to CTU first, but we’re going to talk through our next move, Tony. You have my word that we’re going to work together on this.”

“All right. Fine.” Tony ended the call. He wasn’t sure whether he had made the right choice, bringing Jack in. He knew it could backfire horribly. His mind was already providing him with plenty of ways it could go wrong – all of them ending with his wife’s death. But whether this decision had been a mistake or not, it was pointless to worry too much about it now. It was done. And it was at least logical to tell himself that having Jack working on this with him increased Michelle’s chances of survival.

Things continued to happen very quickly once Jack returned. Tony initially put up a fight when his friend told him the rest of the office needed to know about the threat against Michelle. But he gave in when Jack pointed out they would need everyone working together to plan this most effectively. From there, it wasn’t too much of a stretch to agree to step aside and let Jack take temporary command as acting director, too. It stung, but there was no way for him to deny it: his decisions were compromised, and they would be until Michelle was safe.

“I hope I made it clear just then – this isn’t about me taking your position away from you because I’m passing any kind of judgment,” said Jack, as the two of them hurried toward the holding room where Jane was waiting. “This is about stopping Saunders and getting Michelle back. That’s it.”

“Yeah.” Tony didn’t trust himself to say anything else. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Jack. It was just that his fears for Michelle were at such high levels that he knew the slightest thing was going to set him off.

It was … ‘good’ wasn’t the right word, but something like that, that Jane seemed to grasp the situation quickly. Tony had to grip the sides of his chair when Jack asked her if she would consent to being a part of the operation to capture her father. If she said no… But thankfully, she didn’t. In fact, she looked ill when she heard how her father was using Michelle.

“I want to try to stop my father from doing more awful things,” she said, swallowing and looking from Tony to Jack. “What do you need me to do?”

Tony let Jack handle all of that conversation. But it was his job to talk to Saunders when he called next. He and Jack had discussed what he should say ahead of time, and while Tony stuck to that script for the most part, Saunders’ smug confidence that he was in charge meant he couldn’t exactly keep it professional. But Jack didn’t seem even slightly bothered by his vivid threat against Jane’s life (since they had both stepped out of the room where Jane was at this point).

Hearing Michelle’s voice on the other end of the phone almost undid him. Immediately, all his regrets and panic about whether she was going to make it out of this alive came rushing back stronger than ever. But he couldn’t lose it. Not now. Not when she needed him to make this work. So he gritted his teeth and listened to Saunders’ instructions about where to go next. “I’ll be there,” he told the man, and hung up.

“Good work,” said Jack quietly. He met Tony’s gaze for a few seconds, and then seemed to come to a decision. “I’m going to go with you and Jane to this pay phone where Saunders wants you to take his call. But once we settle on a location for the exchange, I’d prefer to focus most of my energy on working with Chase to get the strike teams ready.”

Tony stared. That was… If he understood what Jack was saying, he was offering Tony a fair amount of trust here. Trust that Tony wasn’t sure he deserved. He could still screw this up in so many ways. “I-- I’m pretty sure I’m still not going to be able to stay objective,” he ended up admitting, as he rubbed a hand over his face again.

Nodding, Jack said, “Understood. All I’m saying is, it would be good if you could give Division as many examples as possible to prove that you’re cooperating. It’ll look better for you after all this is over, once we’ve stopped Saunders and gotten Michelle back safely.”

“I can’t worry about that right now,” he snapped. He knew it made total sense for Jack to mention stopping Saunders as the first priority, but it still grated. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t already considered the possible consequences of his actions. “After this is over, I’ll resign – or go to prison, or whatever. But I need to get Michelle back first.”

“Fine.” Jack didn’t push the matter any further. “Let’s just get Jane and go.”

They arrived at the pay phone a few minutes before Saunders’ specified time. Tony wondered aloud whether Saunders had someone watching the place, to which Jack said, “Unfortunately we can’t be one hundred percent certain about that, but it’s unlikely he would want to spread out his resources to send someone to surveil here. He thinks he has you where he wants you already. But just to be sure, I’ll stay out of sight until you start the call.”

“All right.”

“You remember what we already discussed, about rejecting Saunders’ first location? Chase will need time to get the strike teams embedded.”

“I remember.” Tony swallowed. “But if Saunders suspects I’m just stalling for time--”

“You have his daughter,” Jack cut in, giving Jane a brief, apologetic glance. “So you have some leverage. Use it.”

Nodding, Tony took a deep breath and got out of the car. He could do this. Michelle needed him to be able to do this.

Tony waited by the phone for about a minute and a half. To his relief, when it rang and he answered, Saunders gave no indication that he was watching this area. He gestured to Jack, who hurried to join him.

Everything went as smoothly as possible under the circumstances – at first. But when Saunders wasn’t willing to budge on his first location for the exchange, Jack hung up on him in the middle of his statement about how he was in control. And all of Jack’s infuriatingly logical reasons for doing this just enraged Tony further.

“You think you know Saunders, you think you can predict how he’ll act, but no matter how much you think you know him, he’s not you!” Tony shouted. Images of what Saunders’ men could be doing to Michelle right now flashed through his mind relentlessly. He tried to breathe. “This isn’t a game, Jack. We’re talking about my wife!”

“Michelle’s got a better chance of surviving this if CTU controls the ground where the exchange is supposed to take place!” Jack shot back.

“But protecting her isn’t your priority, is it?” It was the first time he’d dared to say this – what he knew to be true. “If she were to be killed, that would be an acceptable loss, wouldn’t it?”

Jack didn’t answer. Of course.

“My God, Jack.” Michelle was his friend, too. For however much that mattered. “Didn’t you learn anything from what happened to Teri?”

For the first time, Jack lost control, shoving him back almost a yard and yelling at him to shut up.

It was a low blow, Tony knew. He knew Jack had never forgiven himself for that loss, and probably never would. But right now, the prospect of facing that same loss was making it impossible for him to regret his words. So instead, he glared at the other man, and then glanced at the car. “If Saunders doesn’t call back in ten seconds, I’m taking the car to the loading dock. I’m not going to sacrifice my wife to this job, even if you did.”

“Tony, I can’t let you do that,” said Jack, calmer now.

“You’re not going to stop me,” he countered.

Before they could argue any further, the phone started to ring. Sighing, Tony glowered at Jack again as he reached for the receiver. Because of course Jack was right again. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on the injustice of this fact.

After this call, things seemed to be back on track. That only lasted until CTU patched in a call from Michelle – who had escaped from Saunders by herself. Tony felt a moment of pure pride. His brilliant, resourceful wife had found a way out of their enemy’s clutches without anyone else’s help. But then Jack – infuriatingly correct once more – had to go and point out that if Michelle didn’t let herself be recaptured, there would be no way to make the exchange for Jane and therefore no way to get Saunders in the open.

This was too much. This was intolerable. But Tony had already given his command over to Jack, so Chase had no reason to listen to him when he tried to order him to redirect his men to Michelle’s location.

“Saunders is at the location Michelle just got out of!” he pointed out, aware that his control was basically gone at this point. “If we redirect the strike teams there, we can pick up Michelle, surround the building, and still use Jane as leverage to make Saunders give himself up!”

“The bridge location is secure,” was Jack’s retort, “while we know nothing about this place – nothing about how many entrances and exits it has, what vulnerable civilians might be next to, anything like that.”

“It’s insane to ask Michelle to let herself get captured again!” he insisted. He was about to turn to Chase, but Jack interrupted him.

“We don’t have time to keep arguing about this.” With that, he shoved Tony back, and then before Tony knew what was happening, two strike team men had grabbed him and were holding his arms. “Get him out of here.”

“No! Jack!” He pulled against the grip of the two men, but it was useless. He stopped fighting, but they were still pulling him further away from the phone. “Wait!” And for some reason, they stopped.

“We don’t have time for--” Jack started.

“Can I just--” Tony let out a breath, staring at the ground, acutely aware of Chase and the strike team members who were watching all this unfold. Jack’s advice to him before they’d left CTU came to mind. “Give me ten seconds with her first, Jack. Please.”

When he looked up, Jack’s expression had softened fractionally. “Fine. Ten seconds. That’s all we can afford.”

The men released him. “I know.”

As soon as he had the phone, Tony forced himself to keep his voice steady. Not to think about how this could be the last time he ever spoke to her. “Michelle, I guess you have to do what Jack says, so we can get Saunders and stop this attack. But we’re going to get you out of this safely.”

There was a tiny pause, and then she said, “I understand, Tony. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Without being asked, he handed the phone back to Jack then, although he didn’t look at him as he did so.

Jack was all business again from then on. He summarized a few more details of the situation for Michelle, ended the call, and got everyone moving to set up for the exchange at the Sixth Street bridge. Here, at least, everything unfolded almost perfectly according to plan. Even Jane’s decision to turn back before she reached her father’s men ended up in their favor, since it forced Saunders to reveal himself. In the midst of the ensuing firefight, Tony let his focus narrow to keeping Michelle safe, though he spared a little bit of thought to glance toward Jane and make sure she’d found decent cover, too.

And then, finally, she was in his arms, with nothing keeping them apart. She was okay. He held her as she clung to him. Both of them were breathing hard (she was shaking), both of them were exhausted, but she was here. They were together.

They were left undisturbed until the scene was secure and Saunders was in custody. After that, a couple more vehicles arrived, and Tony’s heart sank when he realized who they were. He swallowed hard, and helped Michelle to her feet. Could he face this?

Several agents in suits exited the lead vehicle. Tony thought he recognized the man who was clearly in charge. He and a few others approached. “Agent Almeida,” he said, “please come with us. I have orders from Brad Hammond at Division to take you into custody.”

“What?!” Michelle grabbed his hand. “On what grounds?”

“Purposefully allowing a suspect to escape,” the agent said. He nodded to the men with him, who made as if to move toward Tony.

“Wait.” Jack hurried over, standing between the men and Tony. “Tony worked with us, not against us, after that initial interaction with Saunders. He doesn’t deserve to be charged with anything.”

“You can give your statement to Hammond when you get back to CTU, Agent Bauer,” said the agent. “I have my orders. They are to transfer Agent Almeida to CTU holding until all the details of this situation can be clarified.”

“All right, fine.” Jack looked at Tony and Michelle. “I have to interrogate Saunders now, but I’ll give my statement to Hammond as soon as I can.”

“We understand, Jack,” said Tony. None of his earlier resentment meant anything now. “You and Chase do whatever you have to do, to get Saunders to talk.”

“Copy that.”

The initial debrief with Hammond was just about as excruciating as Tony had imagined. He knew it didn’t make sense for Michelle to be in there with him, especially since they needed her on the floor – but he wished he could draw strength from her presence next to him, the way he had for years now. Still, there was one thing that remained true, no matter how grim the list of possible charges Hammond had prepared for him to read: Michelle was alive. She was fine.

The only other piece of (probably) good news was that Hammond admitted, when pressed, that it wasn’t likely Tony could face the death penalty for treason, since he had brought Jack in before committing any other crimes beyond letting Saunders escape. That, plus his sterling service record, meant prison was much more likely. Twenty years was a long time, though. He sighed, staring across the table at the seat where Hammond had been before he stepped out. He wondered if Michelle was there on the other side of the one-way mirror now. But then he gave himself a mental headshake. No. She had more urgent things to do.

Somehow, the crisis passed. Tony was even released from holding so he could coordinate for Jack and Chase, and give them what support they needed to track down all the remaining vials of the virus. This, he did willingly; Hammond didn’t have to convince him. But when all the vials were destroyed or secure, there was no reason for further delay. Whether or not Jack’s and Michelle’s statements kept him out of prison, they weren’t going to keep him out of a federal holding cell.

Tony tried his hardest to be both realistic and hopeful when he said his goodbye to Michelle. But the grief and pain in her eyes made his heart feel like it was being shredded.

“I’m not going to let you go to prison, Tony,” she said, fierce even as she was clearly struggling to hold back her tears. “We’re going to fight this. I won’t give up.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he told her.

“It’s not right, it’s not fair. Not after everything you’ve accomplished today. I can’t-- I can’t do this, I--”

“Michelle, sweetheart, please--” But he couldn’t leave her like this. He closed the short distance between them and took her face in his hands. Their kiss was desperate, as they both tried to communicate as much as possible with these few seconds they had.

Once they broke apart, Tony kept his hand on her cheek. “Baby, I need you to know: even if my case goes to trial, and even if they find me guilty, I can live with that. Because the most important thing is, you’re alive – and no one else got hurt because of what I did. It’s more than what I hoped for.”

She shook her head but didn’t argue. They held each other’s gazes for as long as possible, before the security guard took him out of the room.

~~

Chapter Text

“Michelle, wait.”

She stopped and turned toward him, raising an eyebrow. She had thought she’d made it clear: she was doing this, with or without him.

He sighed. “Just-- let me call Rosen right now and at least leave him a message, all right? Then we can go together.”

“All right.” She gave him a small smile and followed him back into the main room. He’d surprised her – though she shouldn’t have been surprised. It wasn’t likely he would have sat back and let her do this by herself.

His message for their client was succinct and to the point. Once he was done, he grabbed his car keys. “Do you want to drive?”

“No, you can go ahead.” They went outside, and Michelle locked the front door behind them.

Just as Tony was putting his key in the car door, he let out a little cry of frustration. “Dammit. I left my wallet inside.” He turned toward her. “Can you--”

But before he could finish his sentence, the car exploded.

The blast threw Michelle backward, and she hit her head and her upper back against the door. Things went dark for a second. But she forced herself upright as soon as she could. “Tony!”

There was a ringing in her ears, so loud that she hadn’t even heard her own voice call out just then. Her head felt absolutely terrible. There was something wet on her scalp and neck, and she was pretty sure she knew what it was. But none of that mattered as much as the still form of her husband, which she could just see under the blown-off car door next to the flaming wreckage that had once been their car.

“Tony!” she shouted again, despite the fact that she still couldn’t hear anything other than her own pounding heartbeat. She staggered over to where he was, shoving away the door and crouching down to try to find his pulse. Her head felt much worse at the change in position, but she tried to ignore that. Her hands shook, but eventually she found the pulse point at his throat – and let out a half-choked sob when she felt a flutter under her fingertip. He was alive.

All right. So. Despite the pounding in her head, she knew it wasn’t safe for them to stay here. The gas tank in the car was going to ignite eventually – and that was if there wasn’t another bomb rigged to go off. “Okay, Tony,” she said, and could just about hear her voice, “come on. We’ve got to move.”

He didn’t move, of course. He was clearly unconscious, half lying on one side. In any other circumstances, she wouldn’t have wanted to risk aggravating any spinal injuries or internal bleeding by moving him, but she didn’t have a choice here. Setting her jaw, she grabbed both of her husband’s arms and started to drag him further away from the driveway. The exertion only intensified the pain in her head and back. Her vision started to go dark again. In spite of her efforts, she was pretty sure she’d only gotten him maybe a yard away from the car when the second blast knocked her off her feet again. This time, the pain and shock meant there was no chance for her to stay conscious.

~
She had some confused memories of faces bending over her at some point after that, and loud sounds, and intense pain. But she couldn’t stay awake for long enough to figure out what was happening. When she did manage to fully return to consciousness, before she even opened her eyes, she had the impression that a significant amount of time had passed.

In fact, oddly enough, her first groggy thought was to wonder what time it was. Then memories of the explosion came back to her, and her eyes shot open.

That was when she discovered she couldn’t really move, aside from her eyes. Her body felt weighted down. She realized that she was hearing various hospital noises around her, including a heart monitor. And slowly, although it was hard for her to even turn her head, she recognized where she was: CTU medical. Which didn’t make any sense.

Trying and sort of succeeding at clearing her throat, Michelle called out, “Hello? Is-- is anyone here?”

Her voice wasn’t as loud as she would have wanted, but it was audible. She hoped.

For a few seconds, there was no response. But then a man in a doctor’s coat came into the room. “Ms. Dessler, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Not too bad,” she replied, after some consideration. She could tell the pain would be significant without the painkillers they must be giving her, but right now, nothing felt too noticeable. The heavy feeling had passed a little. “Doctor, what’s going on? Why am I at CTU? And-- and my husband, Tony Almeida, is he here, too?”

“As to why you were brought here, I haven’t been told the answer to that,” the doctor said frankly. “But yes, your husband is here, too. He suffered more severe and extensive injuries than you, but his condition is currently stable.”

Michelle took a breath. There were several things she needed to know, but one took priority. “I’ll want to talk to Bill Buchanan when he’s available, but first, I need to know the details of my husband’s condition. And mine as well.”

“Director Buchanan already told me to tell him as soon as either of my patients were conscious,” said the doctor with another nod. “Let me just step away for a second to inform him, and then I’ll be back to update you more fully on Mr. Almeida’s and your conditions.”

“Fine.”

Michelle thought about trying to sit up while she waited, but decided that wouldn’t be a great idea. Instead, she did her best to take stock of the situation – as much of it as she knew about. She and Tony were both alive, despite an attempt on their lives. They had been brought to CTU, which suggested there was some kind of larger threat at work here. Part of her wanted to know all the details of that threat. The other part of her, which had dominated her thoughts and attitudes since she and Tony left CTU over a year ago, just wanted to get out of here with her husband as soon as it was safe to do so.

Suddenly, an awful thought occurred to her, and she bit back a cry as she shot upright. The baby! How could she have forgotten? Was the baby even--

But the pain her jolt upright was causing throughout her head and torso was enough to make her collapse back against the thin pillow, just as the doctor came back in. “Ms. Dessler, please, take it easy,” he said, hurrying over. Some of the machines around her were beeping in alarmed tones.

“Yeah,” she gasped, shutting her eyes. The pain was decreasing now, at least. “I just—” She swallowed. “Uh, Doctor--?”

“Paulson,” the man supplied.

“Doctor Paulson, I-- I don’t know if you’d be aware, but I’m pregnant,” she made herself say. She had to know. “And I was just worried--”

“Yes, our examination upon your arrival revealed your pregnancy,” said Dr. Paulson. “Which was very good, since that certainly influenced the strategy we had to take for the surgery you needed. We were also concerned that the trauma of the blast might have been harmful for the baby, but an internal ultrasound showed the heartbeat was strong and consistent. And it stayed that way throughout all the procedures we needed to do to get you stable.”

She let out a sigh, unclenching her hands from where they had been gripping the sheet. “Okay. Good. Thank you.”

From there, the doctor gave her a rundown of her own injuries. She wasn’t the slightest bit surprised to hear that she had a moderate concussion, as well as a scalp laceration from where her head had hit the door. A few of her ribs were cracked, she had plenty of bruises, some superficial burns, and also small lacerations from flying debris. The other serious injury aside from the concussion was the one that had required surgery: internal bleeding in her abdominal cavity caused by the force of the explosions. Dr. Paulson told her there had been multiple bleeds, but fortunately they had all been uncomplicated to locate and repair. She’d been given a transfusion, and he expected her to make a full recovery, as long as she got plenty of rest and – he winced a little – stayed out of “stressful situations.”

Michelle resisted the urge to make a snide comment about the stress of an assassination attempt. Instead she just asked, “How about Tony?”

“Your husband suffered more severe head trauma, and so in his case, it resulted in a subdural hematoma – a bleed in the brain.” He paused, and then gave her an encouraging smile. “But thankfully you were both brought here fast enough that we were able to prevent lasting damage, and all indications are he should make a full recovery, too. He’ll take a bit longer, most likely, but he should get there. Aside from that, his other serious injury was a penetrating abdominal wound caused by an embedded piece of metal. He also has some cracked ribs, first- and second-degree burns, bruises, and minor lacerations.”

She bit her lip. “I-- I didn’t see the piece of metal when I moved him away from the car,” she whispered. How could she have missed that? What if moving him had jostled it, made it worse?

“You moved him away from the car?” The doctor’s eyebrows rose.

“Yes. Just before the, uh, the second explosion.”

“Well, then you very likely saved his life,” Dr. Paulson said. “If he’d been in closer proximity to another blast, the bleed in his brain would have worsened, and the shrapnel might have been forced further into his body.”

That made a horrible amount of sense. She swallowed again and nodded. “Anyway, I’d like to see him as soon as I can.”

“That’s going to take some preparation,” was Dr. Paulson’s response, “since you’ll have to stay in your bed for the visit. But we can make it work.”

“Thank you.” She sighed, closing her eyes. Now that she’d gotten the most important information, her exhaustion was making itself known. But she had only just dropped off when she heard a familiar voice.

“Michelle? I don’t want to keep you from getting some rest, but I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes, if that’s okay.”

She opened her eyes, summoning up something that was almost a smile. “Hi, Bill.”

“Michelle, I’m so sorry this happened to you and Tony,” he said, with obvious concern in his gaze as he pulled up a chair to sit next to her bed. “When I think about how close we came to losing both of you…”

It had been close. So close, in fact, that she didn’t want to dwell on it. “What do you know about the bombing? And about who killed President Palmer?”

Bill gave her a rundown of what had happened since that morning – quite a number of hours ago by now. Apparently Chloe had also been targeted, but had avoided injury by what seemed to be pure luck. Jack was out of hiding, working with CTU to track down the members of the conspiracy who had assassinated President Palmer. Thankfully, it hadn’t taken too long for Bill and the others to realize Jack had been framed – that it couldn’t have been him who killed Palmer.

“But both Jack and Chloe are okay now?” she asked. It was clear everyone involved in Jack faking his death had been targeted by this conspiracy – although of course she couldn’t be sure these were the same people who had killed President Palmer.

“They are. They’re both here, along with Audrey Raines.”

Michelle’s eyebrows rose. She wondered how the reunion between Jack and Audrey had gone. She knew the last time they’d spoken, Audrey had been furious at him for essentially causing her husband’s death – but then, it had been a long time since that day, and Audrey had been devastated by Jack’s apparent death afterward.

Bill cleared his throat. “I feel like I should bring up the fact that you don’t seem at all surprised that Jack is alive,” he said.

She stared at him, too tired to summon up any hint of apology. “Jack had very reliable intel that the Secret Service was going to kill him, Bill,” she said bluntly. “We couldn’t just let that happen.”

Sighing, he shook his head, but when he spoke, all he said was, “I believe you. And of course I agree you couldn’t have sat by and done nothing.”

“Well … good.” At least Bill wasn’t going to try to argue with her about this.

There was a pause, and then Bill stood up. “I don’t want to keep you from getting the rest you need,” he repeated. “I imagine Jack will try to come and see you at some point soon. I know he’s been concerned about you both.”

That was genuinely nice to hear, Michelle thought. Not that she thought Jack would be anything but concerned about his friends – when he had a spare moment to think about them. “Thanks,” she said.

Despite her worries about Tony, she drifted off to sleep for a while before the doctor woke her to ask if she was ready to be taken to see her husband. As he had warned, this involved quite a process. First, they had to make sure all the monitors and IV lines she was hooked up to were able to be moved. Then they had to clear the way for her to be wheeled to the ICU section of the medical wing. But then, finally, she was in the same room as him.

She had been trying to steel herself. She’d heard all about his serious injuries, after all, and knew he wasn’t going to be conscious (maybe not for a long while). But she still gasped in horror when she saw Tony’s face almost hidden under the oxygen mask – the part that wasn’t covered in burns, that was – and how utterly still and pale he was, other than the rise and fall of his chest. And then there was the added distress of seeing just how many bandages were covering other parts of his skin.

“He’s doing well,” said the nurse sympathetically. “I know he doesn’t look very good right now, but he’s been stable ever since his surgeries.”

She nodded once, wiping at the tears that were threatening to fall. That was good news, she knew. “Can I-- is there a way I could get a little closer? I’d like to…” She trailed off, hating how uncertain she sounded.

Thankfully, the nurse seemed to understand. “Let’s see if we can slide your bed in next to his, just for a minute or two.”

It wasn’t easy – CTU medical wasn’t that large of place, after all – but eventually, she was close enough to her husband that she could reach over and take his hand. It was cooler than normal. Still, she felt some of her anxiety ease as she squeezed his fingers gently. “Tony,” she said, her voice cracking just a bit, “I’m here.”

~
Somehow, even through an assassin infiltrating CTU, a gas attack, and a terrorist suspect who wasn’t as carefully restrained as he should have been, Tony remained unconscious. It was Michelle who was awake through much more of those disasters than she’d have preferred. There was basically nothing she could do to be of any use during any of them. She couldn’t help protect Tony, or even herself, much less anyone else here. It was not a pleasant situation to be in. There were only two sort of positive things that happened during that time. The first was that Tony’s bed was moved closer to where she was, so that she could sort of see him. The second was seeing Jack – which would have been purely positive if the circumstances hadn’t been so dire.

She’d slept a lot after her conversation with Bill, and after her too-brief reunion with Tony. But when she’d woken up next, back in her own partially curtained-off section, she wondered what it was that woke her. She’d thought there had been a loud sound. On the other hand, she thought, frowning and looking around as best she could, maybe that had just been a dream or something. Everything seemed very quiet around her. Quieter than it had been before, in fact.

Just then, a man in a pale blue doctor’s coat walked by, wiping off his hands. She didn’t recognize him. When he noticed her, he gave a quick smile and came closer. “Hi, Ms. Dessler. I’m Dr. Paulson’s replacement. He had to leave suddenly. How are you feeling?”

“All right,” she told him, after a moment’s reflection. “No changes, I’d say.”

“Good. Well, I’ll check in on you soon.” He smiled again, and then left her alone.

Michelle had just started to drift off again (these IV painkillers were strong, after all) when she heard the door to medical open. A few seconds later, Jack came into view.

“Jack,” she called. Her voice came out quieter than she’d expected, but he still heard her.

“Michelle.” He turned and came toward her bed, taking in her bandages and other visible injuries as he did so. “Michelle, I’m so sorry this happened to you and Tony. Whoever is behind the attack on President Palmer and you two and Chloe, it has to be because you were the only people who knew I was still alive.”

“That doesn’t make it your fault, Jack,” she insisted. It was important he heard this, so she marshaled her slow-moving thoughts before going on. “You didn’t do this to us. You didn’t even make us agree to help you disappear in the first place.”

“I know.” He didn’t look convinced, but he cleared his throat. “Anyway. What did you want to talk to me about?”

She blinked. “Huh?” God, she sounded like she was stoned. Which she was, kind of, she supposed, but still.

Brow furrowing, he said, “Dr. Paulson called and told me you wanted to talk to me.”

“He did?” She frowned again. “But I never said that. I mean, not that I didn’t want to see you.”

But Jack didn’t seem to be listening. Instead, he was staring at something on the other side of Michelle’s bed. That was when she noticed the new doctor coming up behind him – and it looked very much like he was pulling a gun out of his pocket.

“Jack, look out!”

For the next minute or so, Michelle was forced to watch, all but helpless, as her friend fought off the man (who was definitely not a doctor) attacking him. Her heart was in her throat as they struggled over the gun. Despite Jack’s efforts, some shots were fired – thank God, they missed both Tony and her. Then Jack was on the ground, and Michelle couldn’t see exactly what was happening to him from her vantage point, but she guessed by the sound that the assassin must have just cracked a few of Jack’s ribs. She winced, wishing she could do anything to help. There was a tray of medical implements near her bed, but she couldn’t reach it without causing herself quite a bit of pain. That was when the two combatants knocked it over.

Gritting her teeth, Michelle forced herself into a sitting position – just in time to see Jack manage to get the upper hand and stab his opponent in the throat with a scalpel. Then he collapsed against the side of an unoccupied bed, panting.

“My God, Jack,” she said, scanning to see if he was bleeding, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m all right,” he said between breaths. One of his arms was wrapped around his side. “Are you?”

“Yeah. But--”

Before she could say another word, the door to medical burst open, and Bill and several CTU guards rushed in. Michelle wasn’t exactly surprised that Jack couldn’t stick around for long after that. Still, she was gratified that before he left, he demanded Bill get some guards down here for her and Tony – and another doctor.

“I’ll try to come by again if I get the chance, Michelle,” he told her.

“I understand,” she assured him. It wasn’t as if this was likely to be a day when he had a lot of downtime.

Of course, after this, things had only gotten worse. Michelle was grateful that medical was protected from the toxic gas released in the ventilation system, but horrified to realize how many personnel would not be able to make it to any safe room in time. Once again, being at CTU had turned out to be at least as unsafe as being outside of it.

The gas attack also meant she and Tony ended up having to be in the same room as Christopher Henderson. This was the man who was apparently responsible for ordering the deaths of President Palmer and the hits on Tony, Chloe, and herself. Of course the number of rooms at CTU that could be sealed off was limited, so it made some sense for Henderson to be interrogated down here. But Michelle did not appreciate being in such close proximity to him.

Henderson, who she thought she remembered hearing about back when she worked here, was clearly very good at resisting interrogation. It lasted long enough, in fact, that despite the tension of the lockdown and everything else about the situation, Michelle found herself dropping off again. She might not have been able to do that, except after some time, there had been an announcement that now the air outside this room was safe to breathe again. The new director of CTU, Lynn McGill, had sacrificed himself to start the ventilation systems working to pump out the gas. So at least no one else would have to die from it.

When she next woke up, it was to see the interrogation specialist with his hands raised, with Henderson’s arm locked around his neck. Henderson was leaning heavily against the bed he had been strapped into, but his grip was firm. She couldn’t see what Henderson had pressed against the man’s throat. Dr. Besson – the real replacement doctor – was trying to persuade Henderson to release his captive.

“Just let him go,” the doctor was saying, his own hands raised as well. “No one needs to do anything rash here.”

Michelle’s eyes widened as Henderson glanced toward the door. This man was a key part of the conspiracy against Palmer, and one of the architects behind the gas attack. He couldn’t be allowed to escape. But what the hell could she do to stop him?

She had just summoned all her strength to sit up and reach for the (empty) metal tray by her bed when everyone in the room was distracted by a sound coming from the other occupied bed. From Tony. He had just moved, and let out a groan.

Oh, God. What if Henderson decided he wanted to finish the job before he escaped, and did something to Tony now? The thought passed through Michelle’s head in a flash. “Tony!” she cried out, before she could stop herself.

Henderson and the doctor turned toward her. Henderson’s eyebrows rose, and then he looked back at Dr. Besson. “I tell you what, Doctor,” he said, standing up straighter and dragging his captive with him, “you let me go, and then you can see to your patients. Looks like they both could use your attention. If you don’t come any closer to me, I promise I’ll let this agent go unharmed, as soon as I’m out of here.”

“No,” Michelle whispered. But that was all she could think to do. Henderson’s suggestion was, of course, the only way to preserve the life of everyone currently in the room. So it was with a conflicted sense of relief that she watched the former CTU boss drag his would-be interrogator out into the hall.

As soon as he was out of sight, Michelle turned to Dr. Besson. “Doctor, please--”

“Yes, I’m going now.” He hurried to Tony’s side.

She should be trying to call Bill, or whoever was in charge right now, Michelle thought distractedly. But instead, she was leaning forward as much as she could without making her head ache, staring at her husband while the doctor examined him.

It certainly looked to her like Tony was in the process of regaining consciousness. And it also looked like he was in pain. Not that that was a surprise. She bit her lip as he moaned again, one hand reaching up toward the oxygen mask over his face.

To her relief, the doctor was able to help Tony quickly – and it seemed like Tony was able to understand the doctor’s questions and instructions, too. She let out a sigh and shut her eyes for a moment. His brain wasn’t too seriously damaged. The fact that he hadn’t spoken yet wasn’t anything she should worry about; after all, he only stayed conscious for under a minute.

~
Somehow, the two of them stayed pretty safe at CTU for the rest of that hellish day. If they were still considered targets by those who were involved in the conspiracy, they were evidently no longer priorities. No one who shouldn’t have been in medical came to cause any trouble to the two patients or the (remaining) staff.

Finally, forty-eight hours after their arrival at CTU, Michelle, Dr. Besson, and Bill agreed it was safe enough – and Tony was stable enough – for them to be transferred to a hospital. Bill hadn’t exactly told her everything that had gone down during that time, and Michelle hadn’t been able to bring herself to ask. It was awful enough to know that so many personnel had been killed by the Sentox gas. Chloe had visited once, and had told her, in a tone of voice that somehow mixed horror and personal affront, that President Logan himself was involved in the conspiracy.

But Michelle didn’t hear the news that provided a terribly fitting endnote to the crisis right away. Not until she and Tony had been settled into their room at the private hospital Bill had arranged for them. She was just trying her best to relax, pleased at least that she was within three feet of her husband here, instead of barely able to see him. He was awake, although very drowsy with the dose of painkillers they’d given him as soon as the two of them had arrived. Then she looked up at Bill and noticed – really noticed, instead of just sort of picking up on it – how unhappy the other man looked. Even now, when everything was supposed to be over.

“Bill,” she said, focusing on him, “what’s wrong?”

Bill had been staring toward the window, though the blinds were pulled at the moment. He blinked and turned toward Michelle. “I’m sorry, Michelle. Sorry, Tony.” He attempted a smile. “It’s just been a long several days.”

“I know it has,” she agreed. She glanced at Tony, and then met Bill’s gaze. “But there’s something else. What is it?”

Sighing, Bill came over to stand between her and Tony. “I wasn’t sure I should tell you this right now, but you’re Jack’s friends. You deserve to know.”

Michelle felt her heart start to pound. This didn’t sound good. Although he was still groggy, Tony’s eyebrows rose as he took this in, too. “Tell us, Bill,” he rasped, slow but certain.

“Jack and Audrey were out in the field, the morning after Palmer’s assassination.” Bill shook his head. “Somehow, while the operation was wrapping up, Jack went back into the building and just disappeared. Audrey is certain this has something to do with the Chinese, and there’s some evidence to suggest she’s right.”

The Chinese. Swallowing, Michelle met Tony’s eyes again, and saw the same dismay reflected there. “You’ve got to find him, Bill. The Chinese blame him for the attack on their consulate--”

“I know, Michelle. I remember,” he interrupted gently. “You can be sure CTU will be doing everything we can to find him, and working with Audrey and DOD, too.”

She sighed, nodding once. They wouldn’t just give up on him, surely. Not after everything he’d done that day – and for so many years before then.

“Anyway, the important thing for you both to do now is rest and recover,” Bill went on. “There will be a guard rotation outside your door twenty-four seven, but that’s just a precaution. All our intel points to the members of the conspiracy having been eliminated or taken into custody.”

“Thanks, Bill.” She leaned back, suddenly exhausted. There were plenty of things to be worried about: Jack having gone missing, Tony’s long road to recovery, the fact that their house was half blown-up, the effect all of this trauma was going to have on her and Tony – and their child. But Bill was right that figuring all of that out wasn’t her job right now. Nor was it Tony’s. Right now, all they needed to do was rest together. Be together. Everything else would come when it came, and she was confident they could face it together.

~~

Chapter Text

The tension wasn’t gone completely. Not that that was a surprise to her. It was still there – just waiting, since there were a lot more important matters to deal with right now. Jack was quiet in the passenger’s seat as they drove, and Renee had only spoken to him to confirm he was going with her back to the Bureau. She didn’t know whether it was-- reassuring, or not, that he seemed as lost in thought as he was. She’d already decided he was either a soulless, unfeeling monster – which she didn’t want to be true – or that he was scarily good at compartmentalizing. Otherwise there was no way he would be able to do the things he did. Either way, maybe his silence right now was a good sign. Maybe it showed that he did use moments of downtime to start processing things, sometimes.

When the office was visible in front of them, Renee decided to break the silence. “Do you think Senator Mayer will continue the hearings tomorrow?”

“Probably,” was Jack’s response. “Unless the President feels motivated to intervene, and Mayer agrees to listen to her.”

Renee raised her eyebrows, but he apparently didn’t feel like elaborating on that statement.

As they were about to turn into the parking garage, Jack sat up straight suddenly, staring out the side window. “Stop the car,” he said. “Now. Please.”

There was a place to pull over, so she did. “What’s going on?” she asked, but he was already opening the door and getting out. Sighing, she followed suit. She was about to insist she explain when she saw he was staring at someone. A young woman in a suit who was standing near the entrance of the garage. She was staring right back at Jack, totally ignoring the uniformed guard next to her.

“Daddy,” the young woman breathed, her eyes wide.

Jack swallowed hard, and took a step closer. “Kim.”

Kim. This had to be Kim Bauer, Jack’s only child. According to his file, it had been years since they had last seen each other. But Renee wouldn’t have needed to have read that to know it had been a long time. Just the looks on the father and daughter’s faces told her that much.

“What are you doing here, sweetheart?” Jack asked, after a pause.

“Looking for you,” was Kim’s prompt response. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time, Dad – for over a year.”

The impact of this statement was clear on Jack’s face. Renee felt very much like she was intruding in a moment that should be kept between the two Bauers, but she also recognized this was not the best place for this reunion to continue.

“Jack, would you and your daughter like to come inside?” she asked, moving over to where he was standing. She caught the guard’s eye. “This man can escort you both to a room where you can talk more privately.”

Jack glanced at her, and then back at his daughter. “Yeah. I mean, if that’s what you want, Kim?”

“Please.” She looked at Renee, and then at the guard. “Lead the way.”

On impulse, Renee reached out and touched Jack on the arm before he and his daughter went in. “We’re going to need to debrief, but that doesn’t need to happen immediately. You two can take your time.”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

As she was about to turn to walk back to the SUV, Renee took one more look at the man about whom, less than an hour before, she had wondered if he had any real, human feelings. The expression on his face now, when his daughter closed the distance between them, made it certain she would never wonder that again. The mixture of love, hope, and regret in that one unguarded moment was enough to make her turn away quickly.

~
Naturally, there ended up not being time for a lengthy reunion between Jack and Kim. Almeida called him just a few minutes after they’d gotten inside, or so Jack told Renee. Apparently Tony had intel about another attack on a high-value target. “I have to get back to the White House,” Jack told her. “There’s someone there I need to talk to immediately.”

They had a brief conversation about this intel of Tony’s. Before they separated, Renee decided she had to ask: “What about Kim? Is she still here?”

His expression softened for a moment. “Yeah. She said she would wait here.” He scoffed a little, dropping his gaze. “It’s not like this is the first time she’s had to wait for me because of work.”

“Well,” she said, “that’s one more reason for us to hope this gets resolved soon, then.”

With a brief smile and nod, he agreed.

That ended up being the last time they spoke to each other face-to-face for a few hours – hours that were more intense and terrifying than Renee could have imagined. She almost didn’t have time to think about anything but trying to stop the attack on the White House, and then rescuing the President when those efforts didn’t succeed. And she didn’t have time for anything but business with Jack, after Juma was neutralized and the President was safe.

She didn’t regret having supported Jack, though she regretted going against Larry. In fact, while she waited in the holding room in an agony of suspense, she allowed herself to think about it. When it came down to it, she was surprised that she had been so willing to go against him. After all, she’d known Larry for years, and Jack for only a few hours. But there was something about Jack’s drive, his absolute unshakeable conviction, his willingness to risk it all… Something about all of those things in him made it hard for her to cling to the rules she usually followed so closely.

When Larry came to tell her that Jack had been exposed to Starkwood’s biological weapon, Renee was shocked at how much the news affected her. Just a few hours ago, Jack Bauer had been a name in a file to her – the name of a man with a service record that was alternately impressive and disturbing. But the dismay, the grief she felt now was real. It seemed impossible that someone like Jack could be taken down like this.

Unless there was some other way. There had to be.

~

Kim’s hands were clenched so tightly together that it hurt, as she watched Dr. Macer and her dad. She almost – almost – regretted running in to follow Agent Walker and the others when they had brought her dad here. It had been horrifying to witness what this disease was doing to him. But no, she needed to be here. As long as he didn’t tell her to leave, she would stay.

“All we’re doing here is just masking the symptoms,” Dr. Macer said, bluntly but kindly, as he took the case of syringes.

“I understand,” said her father. He hadn’t looked at Kim since he’d first come out of the seizure, and he still wasn’t now.

“There’s something you and your daughter may want to consider, though.”

At that, Kim, her dad, and Agent Walker all stared at the doctor. “What’s that?” he asked.

“Bryden University has been funding some studies on prion diseases. The work is purely experimental at this point, but it does suggest treatment.”

“That’s good news.” The hope in Agent Walker’s eyes made Kim even more sure that she liked the woman.

But Dr. Macer was quick to caution them that it might not be worth getting their hopes up too far. There was only a slight chance. “Still, Mr. Bauer, the fact that your daughter is here already is a good thing. This slight chance is referring to a possible treatment using stem cells from a genetically compatible donor. An immediate family member would make the best donor candidate.”

Her dad glanced at her, and then back at the doctor. “Can you assure me that this experimental treatment would pose no risk to her?”

Eyebrows raised, Dr. Macer said, “Well – no, I can’t guarantee zero risk. But I can say it would be very small. We would do everything possible to keep both of you safe during the procedure.”

“I see.” He stood up, grabbing his coat. “Then thank you for everything you’ve done, Doctor, but I have to get back to work.”

“Dad—” Kim started, while Agent Walker and Dr. Macer tried to call him back at the same time.

“I’m willing to talk about this further with you, Kim,” he said, stopping before he got to the door, “but there’s a time-sensitive field op going on right now that needs my input. I should be fine until the operation is complete.”

Kim sighed but didn’t protest. She hated the idea of waiting even that long to learn more about this treatment, but if her father said this FBI op needed him right now, she trusted his word. “Fine. I’ll be in that room from before, when you’re ready.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

The minutes seemed to drag on after Kim got back to the room where she and her father had first talked. It was hard not to picture this awful disease spreading, causing more damage to her father’s body while the minutes ticked by. But there wasn’t anything she could do about it yet. Plus, she was positive that if she wanted there to be even a chance she could convince her dad to try this experimental treatment, she had to let him come to her when he was ready.

Finally, almost an hour later, her dad came into the room, followed by Dr. Macer. The doctor took a few minutes to recap what she’d said before, and then added a brief description of what the stem cell transplant procedure would look like. After that, she looked between the two of them. “I’ll let the two of you have some time to discuss this. If you decide to move forward with it, let me know right away, and we can confirm Kim’s compatibility ASAP.”

“Dad,” Kim said as soon as the door closed behind the doctor, “please--”

“No, sweetheart,” he cut her off, quiet but firm. Of course he would have already decided. “I’m not going to do this if there’s any risk to you.”

“A small risk, the doctor said,” she insisted. She had the awful feeling she wasn’t going to be able to change his mind. “And worth taking!”

“Not to me.” He shook his head. “Whatever small chance there is that this procedure could help me, it’s not worth the pain for me to sit there and let you watch me die.”

“But I just found you again!” She held back tears. It had only taken their brief reunion earlier today to get her started imagining what it would be like, to have her dad around again. To have him as a real part of their family. “I want to take that chance, Daddy. It’s worth it to me!”

“Sweetheart…”

“I don’t want to lose you!” And then her voice broke, and he was leaning close to wrap his arms around her. She shut her eyes. There had to be some way she could convince him.

There was, she realized then, even as she savored the feeling of being in her father’s embrace. She hadn’t told him about Teri yet. She’d only barely had time to tell him she was married. Would it be manipulative to use his granddaughter now, to persuade him not to give up?

Kim pulled back reluctantly, wiping her eyes. The more important question was, did she care whether it was manipulative or not? Or did it matter more to give Teri a chance to meet her grandfather?

Thinking about it from that angle made her choice simple. “Daddy,” said Kim, taking a breath, “before you decide for sure that you aren’t willing to let me try helping you, there’s something you should know.”

“What’s that?”

This was it. This was her last chance to reconsider. But she thought of her sweet little girl, and that little girl’s namesake – and how much she herself had wanted her dad by her side when Teri had been born. “I told you I’m married. I didn’t tell you that Stephen and I have a daughter.”

His eyes went wide. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out for several seconds. Then he closed it, cleared his throat, and tried again, his voice soft. “A daughter, Kim? How old is she?”

“Just over a year.”

“That’s wonderful.” His eyes were shining. “What’s her name?”

“Teri.”

At that, her dad took a sharp breath that sounded more like a sob. He covered his mouth with his hand.

“She reminds me of her, sometimes. Of Mom, I mean,” Kim went on quietly. “Just little things, like the way she smiles, or a certain expression she gets.”

“Do you have a picture of her?” was her dad’s next question, after a pause. He wiped a hand under his eyes.

“Yeah, I have a few.” Kim pulled her wallet out of her purse. Then she met his gaze squarely. She wasn’t about to be cruel by withholding the photos until she got the answer she wanted from him. At the same time, what would it be for her to show him a granddaughter he’d already decided he was never going to get to see in-person? “Are you sure you want to see them?”

She didn’t have to elaborate; she saw the moment he got what she meant. He sighed, and stared down at his lap. “Sweetheart, I’m thrilled to hear you have a little girl. And I understand what you’re doing right now. But I need you to understand this, too: everything I do is for the purpose of keeping you safe.” He had raised his eyes to hers again by the time he said this.

Tears threatened again, and Kim wiped them away in irritation. “I know that, Dad. I’ve known that for a long time. But if you want more than that for me – if you want me to be happy – then that means you need to stay alive, too.” She wanted him to be safe, too – but she’d settle for alive.

“Your daughter is another reason for you not to risk yourself for this,” he pointed out then.

She suppressed a sigh. She should have realized he would take it that way. This wasn’t going to be as straightforward as she’d hoped. But then she thought of a counterargument that seemed perfect. “Okay, well, I told you my husband is a doctor. What if I call him, explain the situation and everything Dr. Macer said – while you’re here, so you know I’m not skipping over anything – and let him judge whether the risk is too much for me? You know he’d want to keep me safe, too.”

Her dad was quiet for about a minute. He rubbed a hand over his face, glancing at her wallet, and then looked at her again. “All right. That makes sense to me.”

“Great! Then I’ll call him right away.”

“But Kim, even if I agree to you taking this risk after hearing your husband’s input,” he cut in, “then it’s still going to have to wait. This crisis with the bioweapon isn’t totally finished yet. I need to see it through.”

That wasn’t a surprise at all. Her father wasn’t someone who could leave a job unfinished, especially if it was a global threat like this. So Kim nodded, trying to rein in her relief and joy that he was considering changing his mind. “As long as you do your best to come back to me in one piece.”

Despite her efforts, her voice shook, and immediately he pulled her into his arms again. “I will do everything I can, sweetheart. I promise.” He kissed her head. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Dad.” She kissed his cheek.

“Now,” he said, smiling and taking a breath as he pulled back a little, “will you show me those pictures of my granddaughter?”

“I’d love to.”

~~

Chapter Text

~
Tony sighed again as he caught himself looking at the clock for the third time in the last five minutes. This was pathetic. Michelle wasn’t due back from work for more than two hours, and what was he doing? Wasting time sitting around on the couch. Channel surfing while trying to ignore the impulse to go to the fridge and get out a beer. God, he was useless these days. It was no wonder Michelle had been spending more and more time at work lately. He wasn’t much company while she was home, so he couldn’t blame her. (Although he still did sometimes, at least in his head. When he caught himself getting angry at her, that always made him feel even worse.)

Scoffing at himself, Tony pushed himself up and headed toward the back door. A couple of days ago, Michelle had mentioned it had been a while since she’d gotten out into their little vegetable garden, and so the weeds were starting to take over. That was something useful, even productive, he could do. He considered taking his cell phone outside with him, but then left it where it was. Michelle wasn’t likely to call him while she was at work, and who else would need to contact him?

Almost an hour later, when he came back inside and was just washing his hands, his phone rang. Huh. Tony dried his hands and picked it up. He didn’t recognize the number. “Almeida.”

“Tony Almeida?”

“Yes, that’s right. Who’s this?”

“I’m calling from Good Samaritan Hospital. We’ve tried to reach you at this number several times now. Your wife, Michelle Dessler, was in an accident.”

Tony’s heart plummeted. “What? Michelle was in an accident? How is she?” He was already grabbing his wallet and keys, glad he and Michelle hadn’t moved very far yet in their off-and-on discussion about selling his car. How long had they been trying to reach him?

“She’s in surgery, in serious condition.”

“I’m on my way.”

The trip to the hospital was a blur. But somehow he made it safely, and parked safely, and ran inside to the front desk. “My wife, Michelle Dessler,” he said without waiting for the receptionist to greet him. “Where is she? Can I see her?”

“Just one moment, please, sir,” said the woman, firm but not unkind. “Let me find out for you. Are you Mr. Dessler?”

“I’m Tony Almeida, Michelle’s husband.” He resisted the urge to drum his fingers on the desk while she looked up Michelle’s information on her computer.

Thankfully, it was only a few minutes (a few very long minutes) before a doctor came out to see him. She introduced herself as Dr. Branson, and told him, “Mr. Almeida, your wife’s car was struck in an intersection about half an hour ago. She was in critical condition when she was brought in, but I’m told the surgery to repair her ruptured spleen is going well so far.”

Tony took a breath. Ruptured spleen. That was not a good thing. “She’s still in surgery right now?”

“Yes. We should have an update in about half an hour. If you’d like, I can take you to the waiting room on our surgery ward.”

“Please.”

After the doctor left him there, he sat down heavily in one of the chairs in the waiting area. There was one other person at the opposite end of the room – a man who barely looked up when Tony came in. Which was fine with Tony. He didn’t want to interact with anyone else right now. In fact, he wanted to put his head in his hands and let out the sob that was threatening. But he pulled himself together. He needed to be ready to hear from the surgeon as soon as there was any news to hear.

It felt like an eternity that he sat there, waiting for news. The promised half-hour update, in his opinion, barely counted as an update: all the nurse told him was that the surgery was still in progress, and that there hadn’t been any complications “so far”. He didn’t exactly appreciate the reminder that there was still time for complications to happen later. Still, he thought he’d done an okay job not biting the woman’s head off in response.

The other guy in the waiting area got an update maybe an hour after Tony arrived. Whatever it was that the unfamiliar doctor told him in quiet tones, it must have been bad news, since the guy ended up rushing out of the room looking extremely upset. Tony sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. That wasn’t any kind of omen for how Michelle was doing. She would be fine. She had to be.

Finally, after at least one more hour, a different doctor came out into the waiting area. “Mr. Almeida?”

“That’s me,” said Tony, standing up on legs that suddenly felt very unsteady. “How is she?”

“She’s doing well,” said the doctor, with a quick smile. “In fact, the surgery went about as close to perfectly as we could hope, given the extent of the damage she’d suffered in the collision. Instead of having to remove all of your wife’s spleen, we were able to leave a small section intact. That’s very good news, since it means she’ll be at much less risk of post-op infection, and her immune system should continue to work well from here on out.”

Tony blinked, trying to absorb this information. It was good news – or at least, as good as could be expected. “So she’s going to be okay.”

“The outlook is very good,” the doctor confirmed. “She’ll be in recovery for about an hour, and then we’ll move her to her own room. You can see her as soon as she’s in her room.”

“Okay.” He took a breath. “Okay, thanks, Doctor--?”

“Tyler,” said the man, holding out a hand for Tony to shake. “And you’re welcome, Mr. Almeida. I’ll make sure someone comes to get you once your wife is moved to her room.”

“Thank you.”

Once he had been left alone again, Tony sighed and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was getting close to seven. That probably explained why, under all his churning anxiety, he could tell his stomach was empty. He hadn’t eaten since lunch. Based on what Dr. Tyler had just said, he would have time to go find something to eat before Michelle was ready for anyone to see her. He wasn’t sure he could bring himself to leave, though. Of course, Michelle would tell him not to be ridiculous – to go get some food already.

Suddenly, Tony all but collapsed back into the waiting room chair. He had to struggle not to lose it then, when the reality of the situation came crashing down on him. Michelle had gotten through surgery, and she was doing all right. That was true. She had good insurance, and their savings account was not at immediate risk of being emptied. But she was going to need a lot of support and care in the coming days and weeks. She was going to expect him to be able to give her that. Which wasn’t unreasonable in the slightest. He was her husband. He was supposed to be there for her in times like these. That was kind of the whole point of the vows they’d made to each other.

But how was he going to be able to give her the care she needed and expected? For-- God, it had been almost a month already, he realized. He swore under his breath. For almost a month now, he’d been so weighed down by a pervasive feeling of failure that he’d barely been able to keep himself functioning. It was pretty pathetic. The state he was in, how the hell could he possibly help Michelle with everything she would need from him? If he failed to do what was necessary for her, he’d be bringing them both down. And that wasn’t an option.

Tony worried over the problem for the rest of that hour, totally forgetting about the possibility of dinner. He thought of a few things that might be helpful, but the central issue was still there. By the time the nurse from before came back out, he was feeling that sense of failure even more strongly. He had to figure this out. For Michelle, if not for himself.

Tony followed the nurse down a hall to the room where his wife waited. “She’s going to be pretty groggy still,” said the nurse, “and the breathing tube she had during the surgery means her throat will be a little sore. But you can feel free to try to talk to her.”

“All right, thanks.” Tony opened the door and went in.

Michelle was there, lying on the bed with her eyes closed. Her skin was almost paper-white, and she looked somehow small in the hospital bed. But he could see and hear her regular breaths. She was okay. She’d made it through the hardest part.

Clearing his throat, Tony went over and reached for her hand. “Michelle? Baby, it’s me. I’m here.”

She stirred a little. “Tony?” Her voice was raspy but clear.

Despite everything, he smiled. “Yeah, sweetheart, it’s me.”

She smiled, too, and squeezed his hand. Her eyes opened, and her gaze found his. “Hi. ‘M glad you’re here.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” No matter how terrified he was that he wasn’t going to be able to help her after this, that was still true.

“I know.” She yawned, and her eyes slipped shut again. “Sorry. I’m still … pretty sleepy.”

“Don’t apologize, Michelle,” he said, with something like a laugh. “You just had major surgery. You should sleep as much as you want.”

“Yeah.” With that, she was asleep.

~

It took her a while to notice something was off. Which wasn’t that surprising, since she spent most of her time the first two days either asleep or really groggy (if she wasn’t in pain and waiting for relief).

Still, she wished she had put the pieces together sooner. Tony was always there, as long as visiting hours allowed. He was quiet but attentive. He listened carefully whenever the doctor came by to talk to them about Michelle’s recovery. But as enough time passed for Michelle to be able to stay conscious (and pain-free) long enough to notice more details, she started to see that he always seemed tense. Or upset, or something. Even though it was clear he was trying to hide it.

Finally, on her third evening, Michelle looked up from her bland hospital dinner to see that her husband was staring off into space, ignoring the food he’d gotten for himself. His expression wasn’t the same as it had been so often these past several weeks: a dull, almost hopeless look that hurt her every time she saw it on his normally expressive face. Now, it was more worried, she thought with a frown. Or even scared.

“Tony,” she said into the quiet of her room, “are you going to eat any of that?”

He blinked, looked down at the sandwich in front of him, and then at her. “Not that hungry, I guess.” His shrug and strained smile did nothing to convince her that was all it was.

She took a moment to consider how she was going to get at the problem here. She had no desire to make him feel like she was criticizing him. “Well, as long as you’re not holding back on my account,” was what she ended up saying, with a little smile. “I may not be loving this hospital food, but that doesn’t mean you should be deprived, too.”

But Tony just nodded. Several more minutes passed, with no sounds other than hospital machinery, and those caused by her eating (and him picking at his food). Finally, she had to ask. She set down her fork. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

He sighed. This time, he didn’t look at her. “It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s something,” she insisted, keeping her voice calm. “Please, Tony. Tell me what’s going on with you.”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about, all right?” he shot back. He stood up so quickly that he almost knocked the chair over. “I’m going to go get some coffee.” Still not meeting her eyes, he strode out of the room.

Michelle let out a sigh of her own. This was a lot like a retread of the arguments they’d started to have lately, except there had been a different undercurrent in his answer just then. It wasn’t like she expected him to be handling her accident and hospitalization with no problems. That wouldn’t make any sense. Still…

She made herself finish most of the rest of her dinner. Then she leaned back with another sigh. Visiting hours ended at eight. Surely he would be back well before then.

As it turned out, it was only about ten minutes after she finished her food that Tony came back. When he burst into the room, Michelle wondered just how much coffee he’d had. Even without him nearly opening the door hard enough to slam it into the wall, the way he started to pace immediately was a pretty good clue he was on edge. “Sorry,” he muttered, glancing at the door as he moved around the room restlessly.

“It’s okay,” she said. After a few moments of watching him pace, she cleared her throat. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on now?”

He looked at her, looked away, and then clenched his fists, stopping in the middle of the room. “You already have enough to worry about.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” she said, once again keeping her tone gentle. “What is it?”

With that, his shoulders slumped. His gaze was now directed at the tile floor. “I-- I don’t think I can do this, Michelle.”

She stared, her heart dropping. “What?”

“No, I mean – I’m here, I’m not going to leave,” he said quickly, meeting her eyes. Then he looked away again. “But I don’t know how I’m going to be able to really help you once you get out of the hospital, when I can’t-- I can’t even…”

He trailed off, looking so miserable that Michelle wished she could stand up and go to him right now. Instead, she gestured at the chair next to her bed and said, “Come over here and sit, Tony.”

He hesitated for a second, but then did so, sinking into it and putting his head in his hands.

Gritting her teeth at the moment of pain it would require, Michelle scooted closer to him so she could reach out and touch his arm. It trembled just a little under her touch. “I know you’ve been … struggling, the past few weeks.”

He scoffed at that, muttering something she couldn’t really hear with his face still hidden behind his hands.

“Tony, you don’t need--” She paused, trying to find the words. She had an idea of what the problem was now, and she needed to get this right. “The fact that you’re here, and that you’re worried about being able to help me while I’m recovering from this – that matters so much to me.”

He looked up at her, and she saw the tears in his eyes. Swiping a hand across his cheeks, he said, “But you need to be able to rely on me, Michelle. And I-- I don’t even have a job, and I can’t seem to get my head on straight, and you’ve been doing everything since I got out of prison. I’ve been so damn useless.”

Michelle felt tears prick at her own eyes. This was the most honest he’d been with her in a while, and while she was glad he felt like he could say it, she hated to think how it must have been weighing on him this whole time. “You aren’t useless,” she told him, tugging on his arm slightly to make sure he wouldn’t turn away. “Far from it. And we can figure this out.”

Tony shook his head, obviously not convinced. But he didn’t say anything. At least he allowed her to slip her hand down into his without him pulling away.

They sat quietly together for a few minutes, while Michelle considered this issue. He wasn’t wrong: if he planned to be there for her one hundred percent during her recovery, the way she knew he wanted to be, that was going to be very difficult for him right now. It would be beneficial for him to work through his own issues first. And while she didn’t blame him for his struggles, it was still true that she was going to need extra help. She happened to think he could and would rise to the occasion – for the most part. And yet … even if he was just underestimating himself right now, maybe this could be the motivation he needed to “get his head on straight”, as he’d said before.

“All right, honey,” she said, breaking the silence, “here’s what I think.” To her relief, he focused his attention on her then, so she kept going. “I happen to believe nothing that’s happened to you or that you’re dealing with right now means you’re suddenly less reliable. But if you don’t think I’m right about that, then maybe-- maybe now is the time to consider that therapist our lawyer suggested after you got out. Or another therapist.”

She waited for his reaction. He didn’t seem to be rejecting the suggestion out of hand, which she thought was a good sign. Instead, he met her gaze for a while, and then let out a breath. “I don’t know,” he said. She saw a glimpse of the same hopelessness that had been worrying her for a while now. “But I guess I don’t have a lot to lose, do I?”

“You could try it,” she agreed. “No one says you have to keep going if it doesn’t help you. And if you want, we can call my brother or my mom to come over and help around the house sometimes, too. Just until I’m back on my feet.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He took a deep breath, and stood up while still holding her hand. “Anyway, uh … thank you.”

“For what?”

“Just—” He gave her a much more sincere smile that turned into a self-deprecating laugh. “I’ve been so worried about how I can be here for you, but now here you are, doing that exact thing for me.”

She returned the smile and squeezed his hand. “You know this is supposed to be reciprocal, right, Tony? No matter what either of us are going through.”

“Yeah. I know.” And it seemed like he really might.

~~

Chapter Text

~
It wasn’t until much later that Jack allowed himself to think about it. About the fact that if it hadn’t been for the curtains that he’d had a passing thought to pull closed when he and Renee got to the apartment, things that day might have gone much, much differently.

If there had been any logic at all behind that inane action, Jack thought, it had been because it just seemed sort of wrong for the sun to be streaming into his apartment like it was a normal day, after everything that had just happened. President Hassan was dead. They hadn’t been able to stop his murder, or even keep his murderer alive long enough to face true justice. Renee had agreed to go home with him, but even that felt like a fragile thing that wouldn’t survive if there was too much exposure to the outside world right now. So Jack had closed the curtain. And so the assassin had missed his targets.

Or at least mostly missed them. He still clenched his fists in rage every time he saw the bandage on her left shoulder. It had been too close.

Of course, there hadn’t been time or space to dwell on how close the Russian assassin had been to killing Renee and Jack himself, in the moments right after the shots were fired. Renee fell backward first with a stifled cry, after a bullet found its mark.

“Renee!” Jack shouted, as he flung himself to the ground as well. He glanced toward the window, and then back at her. There was blood visible under her already. “Renee, where are you hit?”

“Shoulder,” she gasped out. “God, that hurts!”

That was serious, but it might give them enough time. Of course, it was going to take some doing to get out of here alive with the sniper still at large. The shooting had paused, but there was no guarantee it wouldn’t start up again as soon as either of them made an attempt to stand up. “Do you still have the phone?”

“Dropped it, but it’s here,” she said between breaths. Her face was shockingly pale. “I’ll get it.” She reached out with her right hand, wincing, and then turned to face him. “Okay. Sliding it to you now.”

It was his turn to wince at the motion that required her to make, but it did bring the phone close enough for him to reach it. The blood pooling under her was alarming. “All right. I’m going to stand up just for a second to grab you a dish towel. Then if you think you can, we’ll both make a run for it. Can you do that?”

She nodded once. “I’ll manage.”

He didn’t have a choice but to believe her. So he put his words into action. Though the sniper resumed firing at him as soon as he stood, Jack avoided the shots for just long enough to get the towel, toss it to Renee, and drop to the ground again. It brought him a tiny bit of relief to see her press the cloth to her shoulder immediately. But when she turned to look at him again, she shook her head. “Jack.” Her voice was so quiet, and yet punctuated by such loud gasps. “I don’t think-- I don’t think I’m going … to be able to stay standing after all.”

Dammit. Jack nodded. This was a complication, but he was grateful she was at least conscious and thinking fairly clearly. “Okay. Then I’ll have to carry you. I’ll move as fast as I can without hurting you.”

“Roger that,” she said. Glancing toward the window again, she took one deep breath. “On three.”

Somehow, the two of them made it out of the apartment without any more bullets finding them, although one came so close to Jack’s neck that it felt like it left a burn. Once they got into the hall, Jack took a second to adjust his hold on Renee so they would both (hopefully) be more comfortable. Not that there was much he could do for her until they got somewhere more safe. Her blood was already soaking through the towel.

To his relief, she stayed conscious as he hurried as quickly and carefully as possible down to the landing. And to his further relief, the building manager not only allowed him into his office, but also got out his first aid kit and found an extra jacket from the lost and found for Renee. Jack could tell the man was anxious once he heard that there was a sniper targeting them both. Which was very fair. But to his credit, once he grasped the situation, he pulled the blinds and closed the curtains of the one exterior window quickly. He didn’t even protest too strongly when Jack told him the police shouldn’t be called yet, because CTU would need to coordinate with them. As Jack helped bandage Renee’s wound (it was going to need a lot more attention, but at least this was a start), they both saw how many times the manager’s eyes went to that window – which again, neither of them could blame him for.

As soon as Renee’s condition was relatively stable, Jack called Chloe. “Chloe, it’s Jack,” he said, as the manager put away the first aid kit. “Renee and I just took fire from a sniper across from my apartment building. We made it out of the room and we’re in the building manager’s office now. Renee has a serious gunshot wound to the shoulder and needs medical attention ASAP. But there’s no indication that the sniper won’t continue to shoot at us if we leave the building. We need backup now – and I need CTU to coordinate with local law enforcement to pin down this guy and take him into custody before he disappears.”

He heard Chloe’s sharp inhale. “Copy that, Jack. I’ll send a team to your location now. Do you think this has to do with the man Renee told me about, the one she recognized?”

“Possibly.”

“I’ve already started looking into him with the details she gave me. Anyway, you two stay out of sight, and the team should be there in under ten minutes. I’m sending an ambulance for Renee as well.”

“Understood.” He frowned as he glanced toward the window again. “Chloe, is Hastings going to give you trouble about any of this?”

“Hastings has been dismissed, and I’m acting director. So you don’t need to worry about any of that.”

That was interesting information. Jack couldn’t say he would miss Hastings being in charge. “Good. Thanks, Chloe.”

“Thank God,” the building manager (Anderson, Jack thought his name was) muttered, when the sound of sirens became audible some minutes later. He looked at Jack and Renee. “Do you-- I mean, is it safe for you to leave now? Not that I’m throwing you out,” he added hastily, as Jack gave him a look.

“We know what you meant, sir,” said Renee, giving Jack a quick glare of her own. Although it lacked much force, since she was currently leaning back in the most comfortable chair in the office, still much too pale. Her voice was still quiet, and it was impossible not to see how much pain she was in. “As soon as we get the all clear from our CTU contact person, we’ll go.”

“Got it,” Anderson said with a nod.

Some long, tense minutes passed. At least Renee’s bandage didn’t seem to be totally soaked through yet. When Chloe called, even though he was expecting it, Jack couldn’t quite hold back a flinch. He answered. “Chloe, what’s the situation?”

“The tac team has cleared the building across from your apartment,” she reported. “The shooter hadn’t had time to get rid of the apartment owner there, who he apparently killed, or clean up all his equipment before they arrived – probably because he was rushing to get away before they had him surrounded. But even though he managed to get out of the building, the cops and our agents got him just a half block away. He’s in custody. You and Renee should be safe to leave – I mean, the ambulance will be safe, and you’ll be safe to go in whatever vehicle you decide to go in. But I’m also sending in Cole with a few techs to gather evidence in your apartment, and then bring you back here for a debrief. If that’s okay with you.”

He smiled faintly at that last addition before getting serious. “It’s fine with me if Cole’s team gathers evidence here, but--” he turned toward Renee and lowered his voice, “I’m not going back to CTU for a debrief. I’m going to the hospital with Renee. Cole can do the debrief there.”

Chloe sighed, but didn’t sound too upset. “Fine. That should work. Cole can take you there.”

Cole didn’t drag anything out, thankfully. His team was in and out of Jack’s apartment quickly and efficiently, while Renee was loaded into the ambulance. Jack took the opportunity to gather Renee’s belongings from his apartment to bring them down, for when she was ready for them. (He got himself cleaned up and ready for a trip to the hospital, as well.)

When he got outside, he saw Renee lying in the back of the ambulance, with two EMTs beside her. There was a significantly larger bandage on her shoulder now, and also a blood bag hanging on an IV pole next to her. “Hey,” he said, coming over. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she told him. There was a little more color in her face now, and her voice was stronger. “My shoulder’s pretty messed up, but Sheryl and Jeff think a good orthopedic surgeon should be able to repair it. And they gave me something for the pain.”

“That’s right, sir,” said one of the EMTs. “Ms. Walker’s condition is serious, but assuming she gets to the hospital soon, we’d say her prognosis is good.”

“Glad to hear it. There’s no reason to wait any longer.” He met Renee’s gaze. “I’ll drive to the hospital with Cole, all right? I promise I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him, and when he returned the smile, he felt the knot of terror and anxiety that had been lodged in his heart ever since the first bullet smashed through the window loosen just a fraction. It had been much too close – but she was okay. She would be okay.

Jack stayed all but silent on the way to the hospital. Cole didn’t try to engage him in conversation, which was fine with him. The agent did inform him that the sniper had already arrived at processing.

“If we get to the hospital before Renee goes into surgery, she should be shown a photo of him so she can confirm his identity,” said Jack.

Cole nodded. “Absolutely. We’re hoping his identity will be a major clue that will set the direction for our investigation into President Hassan’s kidnapping and murder. So any information that either of you can provide would be great.”

“Copy that,” he said, clenching his jaw.

~

Renee had no trouble identifying the sniper once she saw the photo of him sitting in a CTU holding room. Even the morphine they’d given her on the way (which was doing a good but not perfect job handling the pain) hadn’t dulled her mind too much. “That’s Pavel Tokarev,” she said, as she was wheeled back toward the OR. She cleared her dry throat. “He’s a Russian operative who I ran across a few times when I was with Laitanan’s crew.”

“All right. Thanks, Renee.” Cole sighed and rubbed a hand over the back of his head. “I need to call Chloe, but I’ll come find you in the waiting area once I’m done so we can go get the debrief done, okay, Jack?”

Jack nodded. His gaze had barely left Renee’s face ever since he and Cole had found her in the midst of the organized chaos of the ER. She could see the tension in his stance, not to mention his expression.

“We need to get Ms. Walker into surgery now, agents,” said the surgeon then, “unless there’s some other security matter that can’t wait.”

“No.” Jack blinked. “No, everything else can wait.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” she told him, with a smile she hoped looked convincing. She was exhausted and in pain, not looking forward to surgery and its aftermath, and very concerned about what was going to happen next after this confirmation of the Russians’ involvement in the events of the day. She was concerned about Jack, too. But there was nothing else she could do right now – except try to help convince Jack she was going to be okay, at least.

“I’ll be here.” And as he stood there watching the medical team wheel her away, Renee let out a breath. Whatever happened between now and the next time she saw him, she had to trust that Jack and CTU had this.

~
When she first woke up, it wasn’t completely. It wasn’t even close to completely, if she were honest. All she could tell was that she was lying down, and she wasn’t in pain. That was nice. Although she couldn’t bring to mind why she should be in pain.

She drifted there for some amount of time. Then she realized she was hearing something from nearby. Someone. Even though that someone was trying to be quiet.

“No, I’m fine, sweetheart. I wasn’t hurt. It was Renee.”

If she could have moved, Renee would have frowned at that. Who was this person talking to?

“She’s okay now. She was in surgery for a pretty long time, but her surgeon told me it went well. But it’s going to take her a while to recover, and I want to be there for her.”

Even though she was still lost as to what exactly was going on, now Renee felt guilty. Because … because there had been a time when she could have been there for this man, and she hadn’t been. While he’d been recovering from … something.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do that, sweetheart. I can just--” A pause. “Okay. If it’s not going to get the way of your plans, then yes. Of course.” Another pause. “I love you, too.”

Despite how much she wanted to stay here, in the hopes that she could figure out what was happening, Renee faded out again after that.

When she finally came back to awareness hours later, she didn’t really remember the conversation she’d overheard. All that was left was a strong feeling that someone she cared about was close to her. It took her at least two full minutes after that to remember where she was, what had happened to bring her here, and the problem that had been occupying her thoughts before she’d gone into surgery. But even when her fogged brain reached that memory, it still took her a while to be able to open her eyes. It was like her mind understood the urgency, but that realization had little effect on how strongly the anesthetic and the painkillers were still weighing her down.

It was only when she heard a slight rustling sound from very nearby, and realized that was-- that had to be Jack in the room with her, that she finally succeeded in waking up. Her eyes fluttered open, and she tried to clear her throat. But she barely even made a sound. Right. She didn’t know whether she’d had a breathing tube for the surgery, but based on how awful that attempt to speak had just felt, she guessed she might have.

Whatever faint noise she’d made was enough for Jack to hear, apparently. Within a second, he came into view right next to her. “Renee?”

She blinked at him. He looked utterly exhausted. She wondered if he had slept at all. For now, she raised a shaky hand (her right hand; she was clear enough on her recent history to know the left one would be a bad idea) to point at her throat.

“You’re thirsty?” At her nod, he turned to her bedside table to get her some ice chips. They felt so good that she had to close her eyes again, just for a few seconds. But she didn’t want to go back to sleep.

“You should get some more rest if you want,” Jack was saying just then.

She shook her head, swallowed, and tried to talk again. “How long?” Her voice was raspy, but at least it was a little more audible than a whisper.

“How long were you in surgery and recovery?” he guessed. When she nodded again, he told her, “The surgery took almost three hours. It wasn’t a simple shoulder reconstruction, because of the force of the impact--” (he grimaced, and she wondered how much detail he’d been given) “and there was other damage caused by bullet fragments that also needed to be repaired. But the surgeons say it went well. You were in recovery for another hour, and then you’ve been asleep for … maybe another hour after that?”

She took this in. It wasn’t exactly a surprise to hear that the sniper’s bullet had caused a lot of damage. It had certainly hurt like hell. And now she most likely had weeks of recovery and rehab to look forward to.

“Do you need me to call the doctor for you?” he asked then, into the short silence that had fallen.

Renee shook her head. Her pain levels were fine at the moment. “I need to know--”

But of course then she coughed, and even with the dull heaviness of the anesthetic still lingering, that did not feel good on her shoulder. So she had to wait, to lie there while that washed over her. Once the pain had decreased to bearable, she ate a few more ice chips under Jack’s worried gaze, and tried again. “What I need is to know what’s going on with the investigation.” There. Her voice still sounded like she’d been shouting nonstop for several hours, but it wasn’t a pathetic rasp. “Have you talked to Chloe or Cole?”

“Yeah, Chloe called not too long ago.” He sighed, and somehow the shadows under his eyes looked even darker. “Apparently President Taylor had been considering bringing in Charles Logan to try to get the Russians to cooperate on signing the treaty. But our intel was enough to make her at least take some time to think first, about whether a treaty that includes the Russians is even valid if they were involved in President Hassan’s assassination.”

“Which we have proof of.” Even if Tokarev hadn’t talked, Renee was confident that in the five hours since she’d last been conscious, CTU would have found other evidence.

“Yeah.” But he didn’t look relieved. Not like she would expect, if the matter was settled.

“Did the President make a decision?”

He shook his head. “The only decision she’s made so far is to wait, to not press for the treaty signing today. But she’s not willing to give up on it yet.”

Renee could understand that. She hadn’t been reading all the articles or listening to all the statements about this treaty before-- well, before she’d been called in on this case. But she’d followed it enough to know President Taylor had been working on it for a long time. She clearly viewed it as a major part of her legacy. “Well,” Renee said, as her eyes drifted closed for just a second. Or maybe a few seconds. She forced them open again. “She’s a reasonable person. I’m sure she’ll do the right thing.”

“I hope so.” Her eyes had closed again by that point, but she opened them again when he took her hand. His own gaze was soft as he said, “Get some more rest, Renee. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Wait.” There was another thing she wanted to ask about. What was it? “Um…” If he’d been here with her this whole time, that meant… There it was. “Have you heard from Kim?”

“Yeah, she called not too long ago.” Jack hadn’t let go of her hand. “I told her I’m planning to stick around here for a while.”

“Jack…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted gently. “I’m not upset about waiting a little longer. Kim’s not upset, either. In fact, she said she’d change her flight so she can come visit.”

That was … very kind. Kinder than she deserved. But then, Kim was her father’s daughter.

“Seriously, Renee,” he said then, “you should get some rest. You’ve been through a lot today.”

She suppressed a sigh. There wasn’t much use in fighting to stay awake, she supposed. But there was one more thing she should say before she let herself sleep. “Fine – but you should get some sleep, too, Jack.” She blinked at him, and managed a smirk that probably looked drunken, with how tired she was. “You look like shit.”

That startled a chuckle out of him. “Thanks. I really appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome.” With that, she let her eyes close. The last thing she felt before sleep overcame her was the sensation of her hand in his.

~~

Chapter Text

Things were moving along. If they weren’t going exactly how Tony had planned, it was still favorable. His end goal – the prize he’d been working toward for so many years now – was almost in sight.

Of course, he hadn’t enjoyed being taken captive by Starkwood and beaten up by their goons. But he was relatively safe now, sitting in an office waiting on final approval from the President. The FBI was willing to work with Seaton – and with Tony himself – to secure Starkwood’s bioweapons. All of those elements were aligning according to Tony’s hopes.

Aside from that, it wasn’t ideal that Jack had gotten himself infected. As focused as Tony was on his goal, he didn’t bear Jack any ill will, and the idea of one of his few remaining friends from his old life dying was not something that made him happy. On the other hand, it was probably beneficial in some ways. Jack had never been easy to fool, and Tony knew his true goal and motivation was going to come out eventually. Maybe the worsening effects of the bioweapon would provide enough distraction to keep Jack from getting in the way. (And that was assuming he even survived for long enough for that to be a problem.)

How can you think about him in such cold, calculating terms? This is Jack! He testified on your behalf at your trial. He helped you get a presidential pardon!

Tony gave a small, nearly inaudible sigh and rubbed a hand over his face. Seaton gave him a look, but at Tony’s raised eyebrow, the other man shrugged and looked away.

He was hearing her again. The small, deeply buried part of him that wasn’t fully committed to this course of action (somehow it still existed after all this time) always sounded like her, in his head. It had been a while since he’d heard from her last, though. Maybe it was because today Michelle’s name had been spoken out loud for the first time since he’d contacted Bill and Chloe, and so her voice had come to mind more strongly.

Tony gritted his teeth, keeping his face impassive despite the pain brought back by her voice. It didn’t help that she only sounded like the faded version of his wife that lived in his memory. He had no access to any recordings of her voice, so he knew his reconstructed version didn’t sound quite right. Which was an added layer of agony. But despite her words (his words, they were really his of course), and how much the reminder of her loss still struck him, he had to maintain his commitment. He couldn’t afford to waver now. Besides, he was doing all of this for her.

~
He’d planned for a lot of contingencies. Plus, he didn’t think he was overestimating himself in saying he was pretty good at thinking on his feet.

But apparently there was one factor he hadn’t quite taken into consideration here. Well – two, he supposed, if he were going to be entirely honest with himself. First, there was the fact that Jack wasn’t going to give up, even though he was already showing symptoms of his exposure to the pathogen. He should have known that. Everything in Jack’s history should have reminded him that the man didn’t have it in him to give up. Now it was almost time that Tony would have to tip his hand and reveal he wasn’t really working on the same side as Jack and the FBI … and if Jack was still in the picture by then, Tony could be sure he wouldn’t take long to figure that out. All that to say, Tony was going to have to do something about Jack.

Listen to yourself. Do you even hear what you’re saying? How are you any different from Hodges and these Starkwood bastards? They think the end justifies the means, too.

There. That was the other factor he hadn’t adequately considered. Sighing again, Tony did his best to disregard the voice and focus on the task at hand. If he was able to get in, plant these explosives, and destroy the missiles, there would be no reason for the President or the FBI to doubt his trustworthiness anymore. Whatever happened in the immediate aftermath, Tony was sure of that. But even as he moved across the Starkwood grounds toward the fuel truck, part of him was trying to understand why he was having so much more trouble ignoring that voice today. It didn’t make sense. Not with his goal so close at hand.

He refused to consider the most obvious answer: that the closer he got to accomplishing his goal, the closer he came to abandoning more of his remaining principles. He couldn’t afford to spend any time considering how much Michelle would hate what he was doing. Besides, if he let himself get distracted, he might slip up here and miss his chance to take out the missiles. That would be disastrous for the country … something he did still care about, almost in spite of himself.

As it turned out, he was able to focus enough to get the job done. And then, just a few minutes after the massive, earth-shaking explosion, he was surrounded by FBI agents with their guns drawn. He put his hands up. The ringing in his ears (and wasn’t that a welcome associated memory) made it hard for him to hear what they were saying, but it was pretty obvious what they wanted.

One of the agents moved in closer. “Sir,” he said – or shouted, actually – “are you Tony Almeida?”

“That’s me,” said Tony.

“We have standing orders to take you into custody, Mr. Almeida,” said the man, with a slight apologetic frown. The ringing sound was fading by now, at least. “So if you’ll come with me.”

“Is Larry Moss here?” he asked, holding out his hands obligingly for the agent to put on the cuffs. This wasn’t unexpected. He needed to play the part of the penitent man willing to face the consequences for a little while longer.

“Yes, sir,” said the man. He snapped the cuffs closed. “We’ll take you to him.”

“Thanks.” Unless Tony had really misjudged Larry, he was the kind of man who would hate to see Tony stay in custody for too long. Not after what Tony had just risked.

When he overheard Larry’s call with Renee just a few minutes later, Tony wondered if he’d finally managed to stifle the voice that masqueraded as Michelle. After all, wouldn’t she have objected if she’d caught on to what Kim’s presence could mean for his plans? But there had been silence. No objections raised. Then again, maybe that was because he would only need to use Kim against Jack as a last resort. Hopefully things wouldn’t get that far off track. Besides, he was genuinely glad Kim had showed up (as much as he could spare any energy to care about anything else right now). She deserved a chance to see her father one more time before he died.

~
This was one of the key moments he’d been waiting for. Galvez had made it out with the canister, the one thing that would prove to the cabal that Tony was worthy to join their ranks. But Larry was still here, too. Galvez had only caught him at the edge of his vest. That meant he was very much alive, and would remain so for a while even without medical help. Which presented a problem.

You can’t! came the voice suddenly – as welcome as ever. He’s a good man, and he just got shot because he was trying to save your life! An edge of desperation crept into her tone, as Tony knelt down next to the fallen agent. Fine – take him out of commission if you need to. But that doesn’t mean you have to kill him!

He should be able to ignore this. His whole plan hinged on no one finding out about his true motivation for a little while longer, if at all possible.

“Tony!” Larry shouted in warning, coughing and pointing behind him at Galvez.

Tony turned, raising a hand to the Starkwood operative. The man lowered his weapon. When Tony turned back to Larry, he saw the moment horrified realization dawned.

“I’m sorry, Larry,” Tony said, and he meant it. The man was, after all, a good agent just trying to do his job. He wasn’t too different from how Tony himself had been, once upon a time. (A lifetime ago.)

Exactly, she snapped, that desperation still clear. You can’t do this. If you do this … there’s no turning back.

He knew that. He’d planned for that. And yet…

“Oh, God,” Larry gasped, struggling to move. “Tony…”

Changing how he dealt with this would take less time, anyway. Tony picked up the weapon the FBI agent had dropped earlier, and in one swift move, he struck Larry on the side of the head. The man went limp.

“Is he dead?” Galvez demanded.

“Yeah,” he said, the lie rolling off his tongue as easily as all of the others. He stood up and gestured at the car. “Let me see it.”

As the operative showed him the bioweapon canister, Tony’s thoughts were racing ahead. Larry was still alive. That still presented a problem, since Tony had been planning to go back with the FBI in order to facilitate the next steps of the plan. But the man would be sedated immediately once help arrived, since he urgently needed surgery. Meanwhile, Tony could make sure he didn’t wake up while he waited for SWAT or the FBI to arrive. It would be fine. Besides, if the cops arrived while he was doing some first aid, putting pressure on the bullet wound, that would just make this whole thing even more believable.

As he leaned back against the dumpster to catch his breath, Tony looked down at Agent Moss. At least the damn voice in his head was quiet. For now.

~
Of course, she didn’t stay silent. She continued to have a lot to say as the morning went on, and things started to get messy. When he abandoned a suddenly suspicious Jack seizing on the ground, she protested. At his suggestion to frame some innocent Middle Eastern kids for a terrorist attack with the canister, her disgust was obvious. After he had to use Kim to force Jack to get him back out of FBI custody, she protested again – loudly. But he rendered her speechless when he encouraged Cara and the other members of the secret society to use Jack to synthesize more of the pathogen. She only stayed quiet until they arrived at the facility with the necessary testing equipment, though.

I don’t even know what to-- She stopped, but started again. If I were really there with you right now, I wouldn’t even be able to recognize you. And you know it!

“Yeah, well, if you were really here right now, none of this would be happening!” he snarled, barely managing to keep his retort under his breath. The rest of the group was on the other side of the plastic curtains, surrounding Jack on the table. It didn’t seem like any of them had noticed his choked-back outburst.

She was silent again. Dammit. And now he was threatening to get emotional. This was not the time. His iron control of his emotions had lasted this long; he needed it to last just a little longer. Until Wilson was here, in person. Then, and only then, would he let even a hint of the fathomless well of his grief show. Right before he took Wilson out.

He was back under control in a matter of seconds. Before Cara could wonder where he was (or maybe whether his commitment was wavering while his former friend screamed in agony), he was crossing the short distance to her side. “How long until we know whether it’s going to work?”

“It depends,” Cara said.

“On what?”

“On the levels of pathogen in his spinal fluid,” one of the technicians answered. They gave Tony and Cara an estimate of fifteen minutes before the results of the spinal tap would be available.

“Good,” said Cara with a nod. “I’ll contact the group as soon as we know if Bauer’s viable.”

This was his moment. Tony followed Cara, ready to make his case that it was time for him to meet the man in charge. He could feel it. He would be successful this time. Cara would serve her purpose: she would get Wilson out in the open, face to face with him. And after that, it wouldn’t matter what the voice that sounded like a pale imitation of his wife said. The man responsible for her murder would finally be dead. (He’d tried not to think too much about the possibility that he wouldn’t hear even this imitation of her voice ever again after this. The farthest he’d let himself go on that path was to make a vague plan to track down some of her belongings, or his, once all of this was over. Maybe there was a recording on their phones’ voicemail that he could find and listen to. Something like that.)

Michelle herself didn’t speak up again during most of the next hour. Even while he and Cara recaptured Jack, and he almost literally dragged him back to the meeting site, she didn’t object – although he could almost feel her disgust and disapproval. And then Jack spoke up. It was as if he was taking on the position as Tony’s conscience, instead of Michelle.

“What you’re doing is wrong. This is wrong, and you know it!”

Almost exactly the same thing as she had said to him not long ago. Tony’s mouth twisted, but he kept on with his preparations.

“Damn it, Tony. Look at me!” His tone changed. “Please … as someone who was once your friend … let me die in peace. Don't let them use me to kill innocent people. You-- you could have killed Larry, but you didn’t. Give me the same consideration.”

Tony did his best to ignore the twinge that gave him. He had spared Larry – a man he hadn’t even known for a whole day. And here was Jack, who he’d known for years. No. Unfortunately, that just wasn’t possible here.

Eventually, though, he had to explain things at least somewhat, to tell Jack what had been driving him this whole time. But if he’d been hoping for even a shred of understanding from his former friend, he got none. Only sanctimonious accusations and judgment – of course.

“You tell yourself whatever you want,” he spat, as he shook and trembled. “You launched a biological attack on Washington Center Station … and if we hadn't gotten there in time, thousands of innocent people would have been killed!”

Nothing but excuses. That was what Jack saw in all of his justifications – and what she would have seen, too, a part of him pointed out. He pushed that thought away. He was so close now. Minutes away.

But as he bent down to secure the bomb above Jack’s waist, his old friend delivered one final, parting shot: “You're not honoring Michelle's life. You are reveling in her death, and she would despise you for this.”

The Michelle in his head was silent. But then, she didn’t need to say a word. Jack had stated it all, more baldly than Tony had allowed himself to say or think it through all these years. Which again shouldn’t have surprised him. Jack had always been able to get at the truth, one way or another. Why should this situation be any different?

Well, he told himself, as he put the tape over Jack’s mouth (too late, he’d already torn away the last shreds of Tony’s self-deception), there wasn’t anything else he could do now. He had to see it through. His resolve was still just as strong … although he was now one hundred percent certain he would never hear his wife’s voice speak to him again.

~~

Chapter Text

It wasn’t fair.

That was the thought that kept going through Kim’s mind, as she sat next to her father in the government SUV on that panicked, siren-filled drive behind the ambulance to the hospital. She knew it was a stupid thing to think – as if she were a little kid who still thought life was always fair. But that didn’t change the fact that this wasn’t fair to her family. Not even a little bit.

She had thought – they had all thought it was over. After everything that they’d all been through for the past twenty-four hours or whatever it was, they’d thought they were done. They should have been. But somehow that evil woman managed to avoid CTU custody for just long enough – and now Kim’s mom was in critical condition in the ICU, while the doctors tried to keep her from dying from a gunshot wound to the chest. From what Kim understood, the bullet had caused a lot of internal bleeding. They’d been able to stabilize her enough to get her up to the surgery floor, but the ER doctors had said it wasn't clear yet whether the baby had survived.

During the initial rush of nurses and doctors getting Mom stabilized and ready for surgery, and then the two of them figuring out where they could wait, Dad had been okay, Kim thought. Scared and worried, yes, but okay. But once the waiting started, her dad quickly turned into a mess. It hadn’t helped that that was the moment when he’d noticed the drying blood on his hands. Blood from his desperate attempts to keep Mom from bleeding out. Her dad went white – so much so that Kim was briefly afraid he was going to pass out. But he didn’t.

After he ran to the nearest bathroom to clean up, he came back, but couldn’t stay sitting for more than few minutes at a time. He had to be moving. The pacing back and forth across the waiting room definitely wasn’t helping calm him down, though. And the expression on his face… Kim was pretty sure she’d never seen Dad look like that before. Like the bottom was falling out of his world, and it was all his fault.

Meanwhile, Kim herself was dealing with her own fear and guilt. She couldn’t help thinking about the fact that, before all this had started happening, she had snuck out of the house. If she hadn’t done that, would she and Mom have ended up not getting kidnapped? Would they have both just been fine?

Before she even realized it, she was crying. And that was enough for her dad to stop his pacing and hurry over to her. “Hey,” he said softly, pulling her to his side, “hey, it’s going to be okay, sweetheart. Your mom’s a fighter. She’ll be okay.”

There was no way he could know that for sure, Kim knew. But she held onto him tightly anyway, and tried to get herself back under control. “I just-- I just keep thinking,” she said between sobs, “that if I hadn’t gone out, if I’d just stayed where I was supposed to be--”

“No, Kim,” he said firmly. “None of this is your fault. Those people…” He sighed. “Those people were going to do what they did, no matter whether you were at home or somewhere else.”

Eventually, they pulled apart, and she dug a tissue out of her jacket pocket. Her dad stroked a lock of hair off her face, his eyes dark. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own worry since we got here. I should have been right here with you, not just--” He waved his other hand toward the rest of the waiting room.

“You’re here now,” she said, with a watery smile.

“Yeah.” The way he said it was like a promise.

And true to his word, while they waited for the next update from the doctors, he stayed by her side. In fact, Kim had to smile a little bit; about five minutes after their conversation, he fell asleep. These waiting room chairs were hard plastic and his neck was at what had to be an uncomfortable angle, but he was out. He had to be so tired. She leaned against his shoulder and shut her eyes.

~~
When Jack woke up, he was immediately aware of two things: one, his neck hurt (which was somehow more noticeable than all the other injuries he’d accumulated over the last twenty-four hours), and two, Kim was asleep against his shoulder. Or at least, he assumed she was asleep based on the evenness of her breaths; he couldn’t look at her face from this angle.

He stayed still for a little while, trying to maintain the peace that he’d felt (in spite of the physical discomfort) when he first woke. But it was no use. His mind was already going right back to his worries for Teri. Would she survive this? Would the baby? What would happen if one of them died, but the other survived? For instance, if Teri ended up brain dead for some reason due to her injuries, but the baby was alive… Or if Teri made it through, but she lost the baby. Both options were horrific. Both would be his fault.

“You can move if you want to, you know, Daddy,” came Kim’s tired voice just then. “I’m not asleep.”

“Okay.” He sat up and stretched, and then put his arm around her. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No.” She sighed. “Couldn’t really sleep for more than a minute at a time.”

“Hm.” That wasn’t exactly surprising, much as he wished it could’ve been otherwise. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

Jack clenched his jaw. He wasn’t going to argue with her, but he knew that wasn’t true. Everything that his family had been forced to go through today, and was still going through – it was because of his failures. First, he had failed to be a faithful husband to Teri, and a good father to Kim. Then on top of that, he had failed to protect them both.

That line of thinking wasn’t helpful at the moment, though. If he was really going to live up to his promise to Kim to be present for her right now, he had to try not to dwell on that. So he took a breath and looked down at his watch.

Kim followed his gaze. “How long has it been?”

“Since we got here? About an hour and a half.” The surgeon had given them an initial estimate of four hours.

She shifted in her seat and sighed again. “God, it’s like time has to be passing way slower than normal.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. Inanely, it came to him then that tonight was technically a school night. Which meant his daughter was supposed to go to school tomorrow. At some point early in the morning tomorrow – technically today – he would have to call and tell the school that wasn’t happening. No matter which way this surgery went, he wasn’t going to try to make her focus on school.

They were quiet for another endless few minutes. Jack found himself staring toward the doors that led toward the OR, even though he knew they still had hours to wait. (Or at least, the best-case scenario was those hours of waiting. If the doctor came out any sooner, that meant bad news.)

“Dad?” Kim said, her voice sounding small.

“What is it, honey?” He shifted so he could look at her more easily.

“Did Mom-- She told you about the baby, right?”

He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, she did. She called me just a few hours ago.” It had been so surreal, getting that news from a thrilled Teri just as he was planning to sacrifice himself to save Kim. He hadn’t been able to quash his own joy once he knew she was happy, even though he’d thought he would never have the chance to see his second child. And now … now it was still hard to know whether it was worth it, to let himself imagine that second chance, that future with their family together and growing.

“If they both make it … would you rather have a boy, or another girl?”

Well, he wasn’t going to snap at his daughter not to talk to him about it. And he had to admit it was a much more cheerful topic to dwell on – as long as he didn’t focus on the anticipated pain of having it all ripped away. “I don’t know,” he answered her honestly. “I haven’t really had time to think about it.”

“Okay, but off the top of your head.”

He smiled a little. “Off the top of my head, I’d be really, genuinely happy either way. What about you?”

“Well, now you’re going to make me sound silly if I say I’d rather have one or the other,” she mock-grumbled, but she was smiling, too.

“It’s not silly. You used to always ask us for a sister,” he reminded her, and then had to blink back a wave of emotion at the sweetness of that memory.

“I did, didn’t I?” She smiled even more widely. “I guess I’d still like that a lot, if I’m honest. But a brother would be fun, too.”

Jack allowed himself the luxury of picturing Kim playing with her baby brother – a boy that had his mother’s eyes, maybe, or her dark hair. Kim would be such a good big sister. He clenched his fists and relaxed them with effort. It was a beautiful image.

Just then, a woman – not a doctor or nurse, judging by her clothes – came into the waiting room. “Excuse me. Are you Mr. Bauer?”

“Yes, that’s me.” He stood up. What was this? It obviously wasn’t an update about Teri.

She gave him a distracted, polite smile. “You have a call at the front desk, from CTU.”

He fought back a rush of anger. Whatever the call was about, this woman didn’t deserve his ire. “Thanks.” He turned to Kim, who didn’t seem to be trying to hide her irritation. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, sweetheart. Whatever this is, I’m not going anywhere.”

She nodded, biting her lip. His frustration increased. What the hell could Mason or whoever want from him now?

He used the anger to provide a burst of energy in hurrying out to the front desk. It was pretty deserted out here, so at least there weren’t many people who would overhear. “This is Bauer.”

“Jack, it’s Tony. Sorry to call while you’re at the hospital. How’s Teri doing?”

“We haven’t had an update since she went into surgery.” He paused to take a breath. No need to make a scene here. “Tony, can we just get to what this is about? I don’t want to leave Kim in the waiting room by herself.”

“Yeah, this isn’t going to take long. I was just calling to tell you that Senator Palmer’s office has informed CTU of their special interest in making sure Nina faces justice.”

Jack blinked. That was … actually good to hear. “Okay. I appreciate that.”

“That’s all. The senator wanted to be sure you were aware, and to pass on his wishes for Teri’s recovery.” Tony sighed, and Jack could hear the fatigue in his voice as he said, “No one else is going to call you tonight, Jack – or for a while, most likely. But I hope Teri pulls through, too.”

“Thanks.”

“And if you need anything from CTU, you know how to reach us.”

Jack thanked him again, and then hung up the phone. He wasn’t sure whether that offer came from George or any of the other higher-ups feeling guilt over their failure to keep his wife safe, or whether it was out of actual concern for his family’s wellbeing. But either way, he would take it. Especially the part about them leaving him alone for now.

When he got back into the waiting room, Kim searched his face as she asked, “What did CTU want?”

“Just to tell me that Senator Palmer wanted me to know he’s working with them to make sure the woman who shot your mom will face justice.” He sat down next to her again.

“Oh.” Kim yawned then, and pulled her feet up under her on the chair. “That’s good. I thought maybe they were going to tell you you needed to go do something else for them.”

“Nope.” Jack leaned over to kiss the top of her head. “I’m staying right here.”

“Good,” she repeated drowsily. This time, when she settled back against him, he was positive she went to sleep.

Jack managed a few snatches of sleep here and there over the next several hours. Mostly, though, he sat there utterly exhausted but awake, running over the events of the day in his head. There were so many things he would have done differently if he could go back and change them now. Chief among those things was, of course, trusting Nina, which had ended up being the root of the majority of the other disasters. Not that there was any point in listing all his mistakes in excruciating detail like this, since it was too late to change anything… But just because he knew it wasn’t useful didn’t mean he could convince his mind to shut up about it. And of course, that accusing voice that was reminding him of everything he’d done wrong sounded an awful lot like his father’s voice (it always did), which just made it that much better.

Finally, after two more hours dragged on with that special combination of boredom, guilt, and anxiety, the doors leading from the OR opened. Kim sat up next to him immediately. He was pretty sure he heard her swear under her breath (which under the circumstances, he decided to let pass).

“Mr. Bauer?”

“Yes.” He cleared his suddenly dry throat. “How is she, Doctor?” He thought the man had introduced himself before, but if so, he had no memory of the man’s name.

“Your wife is stable and in recovery,” said the man with a quick smile. “The operation went well overall, although we had a couple of brief scares with both mother and baby’s heartrates. But we have every reason to believe they’ll both be okay.”

Jack shut his eyes, swallowing hard. This was-- this was so much better news than he’d dared to hope for. He grabbed Kim’s hand, and she squeezed it tightly. He cleared his throat again. “What kind of recovery time are we looking at?”

“She’ll be ready for visitors in a little over an hour.” The doctor looked more serious now. “As for beyond that, Teri is going to need to stay in the hospital for at least a week. The bullet caused significant internal damage, which needs plenty of time to heal. This included a collapsed lung on her left side, which means she still has a chest tube in to help drain the fluid and make sure her lung stays inflated. Another point of concern is that the collapsed lung impeded her oxygen levels for an amount of time that may be medically significant.”

His heart dropped. Keeping his gaze on the doctor and not looking toward his daughter, who had just gasped, he said, “Are you saying she might have lasting brain damage from oxygen deprivation?” He thought he’d managed to keep his tone relatively even at least.

“It wouldn’t be severe, since the deprivation never reached acute levels,” the doctor assured him. “None of our scans have shown evidence of extensive tissue death in her brain. So it may be very minimal. Either way, it’s very likely she will make a full recovery in time. But you both will need to be patient. Her physical and mental recovery isn’t going to be a quick process.” Here he looked at Kim as well.

“Understood.” Jack took a breath, and then glanced at Kim. She looked serious but relieved, as well. Then he turned his attention back to the surgeon. “What does all that mean for the baby?”

“The fact that the fetal heart monitor still shows a strong heartbeat is a very good sign. The less good news is, this kind of trauma early in a pregnancy does mean there is a statistically higher risk of loss. So one of the other reasons for keeping Teri here in the hospital for a week is so the pregnancy can be monitored closely.”

That wasn’t unexpected. In fact, Jack would have been surprised if that wasn’t the case. But it still felt like a physical blow. If Kim hadn’t gripped his hand even more tightly just then, there was a chance he might have fallen over.

The doctor took a step closer, his expression sympathetic. “Mr. Bauer, your wife is right where she needs to be. My suggestion for you right now is that you and your daughter go get something to eat while you wait for Teri to be ready for visitors. The kitchen is closed, but there are some pretty decent vending machines with actual, real food in them right outside the cafeteria. A few tables to sit at, too. And then when you’re finished, come back here, and I’ll make sure a nurse finds you and directs you to a more comfortable room to wait.”

Jack glanced at Kim again. She raised her eyebrows and nodded. He supposed it was possible he could eat something, now that the initial crisis had passed and he knew Teri was stable. “Okay. Thanks, Doctor--?”

“Benson,” the man supplied. “And you’re welcome. I know the seats out here aren’t the greatest, and you’ve already been sitting for a while.”

“Thank you,” Kim chimed in. She hadn’t let go of Jack’s hand. Directing a smile at Dr. Benson that reminded Jack of her mother, she asked, “Where’s the cafeteria?”

~~
Kim was relieved that her dad fell asleep again, once they were in the smaller, nicer lounge area near where Mom was recovering from the surgery. They’d both found and eaten some halfway decent stuff from the vending machine Dr. Benson told them about, and the chairs in the lounge were definitely at least twice as comfortable as the waiting room chairs. Kim dozed a little as well, but mostly she thought about the future. About what was going to happen after Mom got out of the hospital. Dr. Benson had warned them that her recovery process was going to take a long time. That totally made sense. Kim just hoped her dad wasn’t going to try to go back to work anytime soon. Things between her parents had seemed like they were heading in a good direction, before all of this happened. She wanted it to keep going that way, for herself and also especially if there was going to be a new member of the family! Maybe there was some way she could talk to her dad about this, and help convince him he should take a lot of time off. His job was important – she was even more aware of that now than she ever had been – but so was family.

To her surprise, Dad was so deeply asleep that he didn’t even wake up when the nurse finally came out to tell them Mom had been moved to her room and was ready for visitors. Kim had to go over and touch his arm. “Hey. Dad, Mom’s ready for us now.”

He jerked awake, and she almost wished she hadn’t woken him at first, since he seemed scared for a second. But he quickly came back to himself, meeting her eyes. “She’s ready?”

“Yeah.”

Kim felt strangely nervous as the two of them walked the short distance to her mom’s room. Maybe it wasn’t just her, she thought, when her dad stopped just outside the door. He took a deep breath, holding out his hand for hers again. “Let’s go.”

Dad opened the door, holding it until they were both inside. Mom was lying on a bed, with the head part of the bed raised and some pillows behind her head. Her eyes were closed, and there was an oxygen line in her nose. Because she was still recovering from having a collapsed lung. Her skin was pale, but she looked peaceful. There was a heart monitor hooked up, showing a reassuring, regular rhythm. Kim stepped closer. Then she cocked her head. What was the smaller line under her mother’s on the monitor? It was much faster-- And then it hit her.

“Is that the baby’s heartbeat?” she whispered, pointing to the screen.

Her dad, who had been staring at her mom this whole time, looked where she was pointing. His eyes widened a little. “Yeah, it is.”

That was … weird, to see this proof that Mom really was pregnant. But weird in a good way.

She came closer to her mother’s side. “Will I-- do you think I’ll wake her up if I touch her?” she asked.

“I doubt it,” said Dad, his gaze back on Mom’s face. “She’s most likely still coming off the anesthetic, so she’ll be out for a while. But even if you did wake her up, she’d be happy to see you.”

“Okay.” She decided to take him at his word. When she picked up her mom’s hand (which was weird in a less-good way because it was cool to the touch), in fact, her mom didn’t stir. “Hi, Mom,” she said, quiet but not still whispering. “Dad and I are here, just so you know. But, um, don’t feel like you have to wake up right away. You’ve been through a lot.” Her voice cracked. She swallowed hard. Some of what Mom had been through in particular, Dad didn’t even know about. And she didn’t think Mom planned to tell him, either.

Her dad put an arm around her shoulder. “We all have,” he said, with a heavy sigh.

The two of them had only been sitting in the chairs next to her bedside for maybe fifteen more minutes when Mom started to move a little bit. Kim thought she and her dad noticed it at about the same time. They both sat forward. “Teri?” her dad said, sounding almost breathless.

They waited, as the woman in the hospital bed turned her head toward them slightly, her eyes still closed. She frowned, and let out a small, thin, unhappy sound.

“Teri, honey, it’s okay,” said her dad immediately, reaching to take her hand. “You’re safe.”

Mom’s frown deepened. She opened her mouth, but if she was trying to talk, nothing came out.

“Are you thirsty?” Dad asked. “There’s some ice here. I could get you some.”

After a moment, Mom nodded. Dad stood up and opened the little cooler thing that was on Mom’s bedside table, scooping a bit of the ice into a cup. He put the cup into her hand.

Another few moments passed. Then Mom lifted the cup unsteadily to her mouth. She spilled a piece or two, but managed to get a good amount. All of this was still without her opening her eyes.

Kim reminded herself to breathe normally. Her mom was okay. There was no rush here. They could all take it easy.

It was quiet enough in the room (even with the sounds of the heart monitor and the air conditioning) that she and Dad could hear her mom eating the ice. Finally, she swallowed, and held out the cup. Her dad took it. “Better?”

Her mom didn’t answer – or not exactly. Instead, after a few more seconds, she opened her eyes. They found Dad first, and then Kim. She blinked slowly and smiled. “You’re here.”

Kim smiled back, wiping a hand under her eyes. She didn’t want to cry right now. “Yeah, we are.”

“That’s good,” Mom said, the words hoarse and almost blurring together. Her eyes shut again, but she forced them open. “We’re in a hospital?”

“Yeah,” said Dad. He cleared his throat. “You, uh, you got hurt pretty badly. But you’re doing fine now – and the baby is, too.”

Mom nodded and yawned. But then her eyes widened. “Oh! The baby?” She looked around and down at herself, suddenly much more alert. Her hand went to her mouth. “I-- I was so scared, when that woman...”

Dad went forward and sat on the edge of the bed, quick but careful. “I know, sweetheart,” he said, his eyes glossy with tears as he touched her arm. “I was scared, too. But look – there’s the baby’s heartbeat, right next to yours.”

Mom followed where he was pointing, and Kim watched the fear turn into happiness on her face. “Oh.”

“I asked Dad whether he wanted a boy or a girl, but he wouldn’t say,” Kim put in, making sure her tone was teasing.

“What I said was, I’d be really happy with either,” Dad corrected, but he was smiling, too.

Mom laughed once, and then winced, putting her free hand to her stomach.

“Sorry,” Kim said, with a wince of her own. Right. She would be pretty sore after major surgery. “I guess we should try not to make you laugh for a while.”

“It’s okay, honey,” her mom said. She patted the other side of the bed, and Kim went to sit next to her. From this close, she could see the dark circles under her mom’s eyes even more clearly.

After a pause, Dad asked, “Do you want me to call the doctor in here, so he can tell you more about your surgery and what to expect during your recovery?”

“Yes, but not quite yet, Jack,” was her mom’s response. She looked at him, and then at Kim again. “I just want to sit here with my family for a little while first.”

“Sure.” He leaned over to kiss her temple. “We can take all the time we need.”

~~