(no subject)
It had been fifty-three hours now since Jack went missing. After she had called Chloe, she'd found another hotel, deciding to stay in the city and look for him. Chris had been worried about revealing too much information, so used to being on guard but that wasn't necessary anymore. The worst had happened. 
So, Chris called the hospitals, slipping up a few times when she was supposed to say "Frank Flynn" instead of "Jack Bauer". She hadn't called Kim, she felt guilty for that but convinced herself that was for the best. Chloe could be more objective about the situation. If she tried, she'd make herself believe that.
She leaned back in the chair, feeling bone-tired. More than tired, her body hurt, she had this constant feeling of something akin to nausea and she felt cold all the time. In the past fifty-three hours she hadn't slept more than five and she hadn't eaten much either, most of her calories coming from coffee. It was stupid and she knew it but it was hard to keep food down. Harder still to sleep when Jack was always on her mind, he was the first thing she thought of when she woke up and she was sure he was there in her now-forgotten dreams.
Despite the weariness that came from running on empty, it was hard to sit still and do nothing because then she had time to think. Time to wonder what was happening to Jack, what could have happened to Jack, each possibility worse than the last. It was easier to keep busy, calling every hospital, searching every police report, focusing on the task at hand. Even then, her mind wanders.
His hands sliding up her back, tangling in her hair. "Sweetheart, I want you back more than anything."
The sound of the ringing phone came to her attention. Fear and hope bubbling up inside her, she picked up the receiver.
So, Chris called the hospitals, slipping up a few times when she was supposed to say "Frank Flynn" instead of "Jack Bauer". She hadn't called Kim, she felt guilty for that but convinced herself that was for the best. Chloe could be more objective about the situation. If she tried, she'd make herself believe that.
She leaned back in the chair, feeling bone-tired. More than tired, her body hurt, she had this constant feeling of something akin to nausea and she felt cold all the time. In the past fifty-three hours she hadn't slept more than five and she hadn't eaten much either, most of her calories coming from coffee. It was stupid and she knew it but it was hard to keep food down. Harder still to sleep when Jack was always on her mind, he was the first thing she thought of when she woke up and she was sure he was there in her now-forgotten dreams.
Despite the weariness that came from running on empty, it was hard to sit still and do nothing because then she had time to think. Time to wonder what was happening to Jack, what could have happened to Jack, each possibility worse than the last. It was easier to keep busy, calling every hospital, searching every police report, focusing on the task at hand. Even then, her mind wanders.
His hands sliding up her back, tangling in her hair. "Sweetheart, I want you back more than anything."
The sound of the ringing phone came to her attention. Fear and hope bubbling up inside her, she picked up the receiver.