I'm so tired that I can't sleep. I'm standing on the edge of something much too deep.

[sendmyscourge]

[[OOC: Forward-dated to around 4:30 PM on November 13th. Treat like a party thread. You know the drill.]]As sun begins to set over Chicago on Friday the 13th, Buckingham Crater has been transformed from a place of destruction to a place of memorial. Candles in little glass jars are lined up in front of a makeshift wall made out of covered and

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[stopdropanddie]

Jack Bristow isn't sure where the hell he stands on all of this. His daughter is pissed at him (like this is new) and about half of it is Abby and about half of it is something else entirely. The best course of action is to drown himself in the influx of information coming in, which was what he did the entire week. The plagues brought some extremely seedy sorts out into the light. He'd love to start hunting them, himself, just to give himself a nice distraction from all of this, but he's not good for much of anything with his leg still out of commission.

No one likes a lame dog. Lame dogs have a tendency to get shot.

He wasn't going to go to the wake, figuring it wasn't his place. He's more frustrated than upset and it has nothing to do with losing an employee. It has to do with losing a friend- a friend who was, for whatever reason, so much like his own daughter that it scared him sometimes. It has to do with a little girl putting a bullet in her head and feeling like that was his fault somehow.

It has a lot to do with feeling worthless.

It has a lot to do with what he saw while he was gone. Being back in his own world, living out the life he would have lived if he hadn't left. One day felt like years. He saw himself shot. He saw him beg Sydney to leave him the way he tried to get Abby to, even if the situation wasn't nearly as dire and he was already dying anyway. She went.

He saw himself die, but that was nothing compared to Sydney's face before she left. He has to sit and wonder if Abby's sacrifice means that he has a chance to make amends with his daughter before that day happens here, just so he can know at the end that his own daughter will actually miss him when he's gone.

He finally decides to limp to the wake, and he stands on the sidelines, leaning on his cane the whole time, and he pays his respect, because it's the least he can do right now. It's one step in a right direction, maybe.