I. September

“Teri — ”

She shakes her head. “Don’t.”

He shifts his gaze; he’s no longer looking at her, but at a spot just behind her left ear. “Okay.” With a barely perceptible nod, he shoulders his black duffel bag.

It’s only when Teri hears the front door close that she realizes she’ll have to face their daughter alone when Kim comes home from school.

Damn you, Jack, for making me the bad guy here.


* * * * *


“God, Mom, did you even try?”

“Of course I did, honey — ”

“I don’t think you did. I think you wanted to punish him for — ”

“Kimberly, that’s enough,” Teri interrupts with a frown.

Kim lets out a humorless chortle. “Whatever. It’s not like you care what I think, anyway.”

“That’s not true.” Teri reaches across the kitchen table and touches her fingertips to Kim’s forearm. “Sweetheart, your father and I have been having problems for a long time, and — ”

Kim jerks away and crosses her arms. “You think I don’t know that? You think I’m so oblivious that I didn’t ... ” She shakes her head, her chin quivering. “You know what? Forget it.”

She scoots her chair backward so fast it rocks on its legs.

“Kim — ”

But Kim stands, her jaw tight, and retreats to her room.

Teri flinches when the door slams shut.

She grips her empty coffee mug in both hands.

That went well.



II. October

“I just don’t think it was a mistake.”

“But what if it was?” She tightens her hold on the phone.

“It came down to this for a reason.”

“I know.” God, I know. “But you didn’t see him that day, you didn’t — ” Teri pauses, searching for the right words. “He didn’t fight it. He just — he — ”

“Accepted it?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

Maybe.

“Besides, it’s only been a month. You both need some time to think about everything ... ” Carol trails off.

“I know, I know.” Teri gnaws the inside of her lower lip. “I just wish I knew where we’re headed.”

“Give it time,” Carol advises sympathetically. “How’s Kim doing?”

“She’s ... still upset. And angry — mostly with me.”

“Well, she’s her father’s daughter.”

But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Teri sighs quietly, rubbing her thumb along the rim of her glass of orange juice.

“Look, I didn’t mean ... ” Carol clears her throat. “You know I’m here if you need anything, right?”

“Of course I do.” Teri stares hard at the small pieces of pulp clinging to the inside of the glass. “Thanks for listening. I’m sorry — I know you’re at work and — ”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Carol gently interrupts. “I mean it.”

“I — thanks,” Teri concedes. “I’ll talk to you later.”



III. November

“I wish you could stay.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Kim squeezes him tighter and nods against his shoulder.

Jack’s breath hitches. He’d give anything if he and Kim weren’t standing in the driveway. That they were still inside and he and Teri weren’t exchanging stilted pleasantries so polite it’s painful.

“Listen,” he says softly, stroking her hair at the nape of her neck, “don’t blame your mom for this, okay?”

She stiffens and pulls away. “Dad, it’s Thanksgiving.”

“And I’m here.”

Kim gestures toward the Yukon. “But you’re leaving.”

A wistful half-smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. Jack’s eyes cut to the house, then back to Kim. “We’re going to figure this out. I promise.”



IV. December

He fumbles for his cell, his eyes still on the computer screen, not bothering to check the ID before flipping it open.

“Bauer.”

“Hi. It’s me.”

Teri. “Hey.” His voice softens and he checks his watch; it’s later than he thought. “Everything all right?

“Things are okay.”

Liar. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He pauses. “How’s Kim?”

“Fine. She still hates me.”

“Teri, she doesn’t — ”

“She does.”

He can’t stifle a quiet sigh. “I’m sorry. I can talk to her again, explain — ”

“Jack, this isn’t why I called.”

Okay. He grips the phone tighter.

Teri clears her throat. “I wanted to give you my answer — you know, from last week ... ”

Jack’s stomach jumps with hope and apprehension. “And?” he prompts, keeping his tone intentionally light.

“I know it took a lot for you to ask to come back — I do. And I appreciate how patient you’ve been since I asked for time to — to think about it. But — ”

Don’t say no. “Teri — ”

“Not yet, Jack.”

The disappointment is almost a physical ache. He clenches his jaw so hard he swears he hears enamel crack.

“I’m sorry,” she adds, and Jack can hear the guilt coloring her words.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. “Don’t be.”

“Jack ... ”

“It’s all right.”

“This isn’t some kind of punishment; I don’t want you to think that — ”

“I don’t,” he assures her, his voice quiet. This is my fault in the first place.

“You know I’m just trying to — ”

“I know.” You just want to make sure there’s something worth saving here. He swallows thickly. Can’t blame you for that, no matter how much I want to.

“Jack — ”

Stop. He recoils from the sympathy — Fuck, is it pity? — he hears in that single syllable. He can’t do this. He can’t stay on the line, can’t have this conversation any longer.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he interrupts, “but I’ve got to go. I’m at work.”

“Okay.” There’s a half-second pause. “Stay safe.”

He bites back a bitter ‘Why?’ because he knows it’s unfair; he’s put them in this place, not Teri. “I will,” he says instead. “You, too.”

He snaps the phone closed and places it next to the keyboard. Then he picks it up again and spikes it. When it hits the desk, the back pops off; the battery bounces out and clatters to the floor.

Jack studies the splintered pieces of plastic for a long time before he retrieves the battery and turns his attention back to the monitor.


* * * * *


I should be drunk for this.

But his fingers are tangled in Nina’s hair and her tongue is in his mouth and they’re both completely sober.

They move to her bedroom and her hands work their way down his torso, button by button, until his black shirt hangs untucked and open.

She trails her fingernails down his chest and he kisses her harder. His free hand slides up her thigh and under her gray skirt, and he can almost forget the phantom weight of the wedding band he stopped wearing last week, after —

He shoves the memory of that conversation away and moves his hand higher.

Christ.

She isn’t wearing underwear.

“Jack.”

The urgency in her voice, his name, nearly drives coherent thought from his brain. His lips move to her neck, and she draws a sharp breath.

Forgive me. He wonders if he’s asking Nina or Teri.



V. January

“Nina, I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I never meant — ”

She holds up a hand to silence him; she’s already guessed the tired punch line to the bad cliché she’s walked right into. “Jack, please.” She swallows, eyes on the silver handle of the locker in the corner of his office, and keeps her tone neutral. “Let’s just get back to work.”

She knows she’s hurt him because his eyes narrow for a half-second — it’s more of a barely-there flinch, but she notices even across the desk — and she almost regrets her cold reply.

“Yeah.” Jack clears his throat and drums his fingers on the edge of the desk, the gold ring on his left hand glinting in the fluorescent light overhead. “I — we’re done here.”

We certainly are. Nina rises from her seat and gives him a tight, humorless smile. “I’ll be at my station if you need anything.”

“Thanks.”

Bastard, Nina silently curses as she closes the glass door behind her and makes her way down the stairs, feeling queasy. This would be so much easier if you’d wanted to hurt me.


* * * * *


“Phil, I’m sorry.”

His mouth tightens and she winces inwardly, knowing she’s hurt him.

“It’s — ” He stares at the scuffed tabletop in the small coffeehouse just off the Third Street promenade. “Look, I’m not going to pretend it’s all right or that I’m ... happy, but I understand.”

Teri places a tentative hand over his. “I know how this is going to sound before I say it, but you’re a good man, and I’m sorry that I — ”

He shakes his head. “You don’t have to do this, Teri.”

Okay. She nods and removes her hand. Just say it, then. She clears her throat. “It’s probably best if we don’t ... if we don’t talk anymore.”

Phil gives her a sad, resigned smile. “Somehow, I knew that was coming.”



VI. February

“Hey.”

It’s late and she has an early meeting with a client, but Teri can’t help but smile when Jack slips in bed and curls one arm around her stomach.

“Hi,” she replies, her voice still husky from sleep. “Miss me?”

Jack nuzzles the back of her neck. “Maybe,” he teases, and she can feel his grin against her skin.

“‘Maybe’?” she mocks. “How much?”

He chuckles, the low sound right next to her ear. “Want me to show you?”

God, yes. He’s been back for two weeks, but it feels like they’re in college again. “Nah,” she deadpans.

“You sure about that?” His hand brushes Teri’s hip and he fingers the hem of his old Army T-shirt she’s wearing.

She turns her head, her lips almost touching his, and arches one eyebrow. “Think you can change my mind?”



VII. March

Jack’ll be here any minute.

The certainty helps keep her breathing slow and even. She concentrates on each breath and ignores the sticky, plastic smell of the duct tape over her mouth while she watches Nina type frantically on a laptop.

But the cloying stench of blood burns through her resolve, and her eyes dart to the body on the floor, then to the gun tucked in the waistband of Nina’s black pants.

Focus. He’s going to come through that door any second now and this will all be over.

She swallows her fear and clenches her tingling fists in their bonds; she refuses to allow her hands to become numb and useless.

When she looks up again, Nina’s back on the phone.

“Why Germany?” she hears Nina ask, and her voice sounds almost panicked.

Teri grits her teeth.

Come on, sweetheart.


* * * * *


“You’re going to be fine, Teri. Someone will find you soon.”

She almost hesitates before she thumbs off the safety.

Almost.

She’s sacrificed everything she’s built in L.A. — her cover, the trust of everyone in the agency — for the good of this fucking nightmare of an operation.

And this — this is just another necessary task, because she’d asked about Germany, and Teri overheard.

It’s unfortunate. But unavoidable.

So she doesn’t hesitate.

Nina pulls the trigger and ignores Teri’s gasp as the silenced bullet shatters vertebrae and exits through her stomach. She grips her gun in one hand and the door handle in the other, ignoring the insistent whisper in the back of her brain that says if Jack gets back to CTU before she gets out, she’s as dead as his wife.


* * * * *


No.

“I’m sorry,” Jack murmurs against her too-pale skin, pressing a desperate kiss to her forehead. “God, I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I’m sorry ... ”

He apologizes again and again, until the words have lost their meaning and his voice is cracking, but it doesn’t matter; Teri can’t hear him, not now.

“I wasted so much time,” he chokes, cradling her head against his shoulder. “I wasn’t here — for you, for — ”

The baby —

His stomach heaves and fresh blood soaks the bandage beneath his shirt.

And Kim, oh god, she can’t see this —

He strokes Teri’s porcelain cheek with shaking fingers.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, his voice breaking, “I’m sorry ... ”

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