24, Milliways: The Milliways Variations - Option 2 (2/3)
Fandom: 24, Milliways
Characters: Jack Bauer
Rating: R
Summary: The second of three possible entry posts for Jack's return to Milliways after Season 4, based on the spoilers that were coming out a couple weeks before the finale. In this one, Jack has well and truly snapped. For background, see option 1.
Warnings: Character death, dark themes, intended suicide.
Originally written: May, 2005
He signs the letter with a steady hand, scrawling his signature like he's adding it to one of a thousand reports he's written up over the last year. An ordinary, government report, to be passed across Heller's desk, across the desk of the Secretary of Homeland Security, the Secretary of State, the President. Only this isn't going any further than Heller's eyes, and maybe Audrey's.
Secretary Heller;
I hereby resign from my position as Special Assistant to the Secretary of Defense, effective immediately.
Sincerely,
Jack Bauer
He signs it quickly, without hesitation, and leaves it at the CTU main desk, where Heller will have to sign out when he leaves. He isn't sure why he's bothers to write this letter, the point is a moot one, anyway. But it's a loose end, and he hates loose ends. Better to do it this way; it's the only goodbye he needs to make.
He'd thought earlier, after the warhead was contained, about going straight from CTU to the bar he knew of in L.A., where you told the bartender what you wanted to drink and handed him the money to pay for the drink plus a little extra to cover however much smack you wanted, delivered under the counter as your drink arrived. He could go there and get himself enough heroin for one hell of a fix; and who gave a shit if it was falling off the wagon after being clean for a year and a half, or about going through those symptoms of withdrawal again, when the last time he'd done it, he'd sworn it would be the last time.
He didn't care, because with any luck he'd OD long before that, and there were a hell of a lot of worse ways to die than riding that high, surrounded by that warm blanket of peace and security. You could die like Paul, quietly, as someone forced the doctors trying to save your life to save someone else's, someone who worked with terrorists; die like Tony, dragged into a situation you hadn't wanted any part of, caught in some sick game of chicken.
But then he'd thought about it and decided, why bother? Why bother going through all that trouble, wasting time on something that might come back to bite him in the ass in the end? The solution could be so much simpler, so much easier, so much more fitting.
He walks through the halls of CTU, not really looking at any of the people he's passing, down the still-familiar hallways. It will be better this way, he's convinced of that for so many reasons.
He knows he's going to break a promise to Kim, but then he's broken so many promises to her before, what's one more added to the list? Besides, he knows that if he doesn't break this promise, he'll just keep doing, keep breaking his promises to her, keep disappointing her, keep breaking her heart. Break one promise to keep from breaking so many more, it'll all be better in the end.
It'll even things up. Kim can move on, finally forget that past that haunts her, and Audrey, Michelle and the Chappelles will finally have the resolution, the justice they deserve. He'll be doing the right thing, and not just for them. For everyone. He'll be doing what he's supposed to be doing, protecting his country, because the darkness inside him is a threat to everyone, he sees that now. He's done what Nina did to him, destroyed families, ripped people away from those they loved with no warning, killed so many innocent people. And if he has to, he'll do it again, let the monster inside him out of its cage and let it do its work. And that's why he has to do this now, to save more innocent lives, because the one thing that scares him is that one day he'll let the monster out of its cage and he won't be able to get it back inside.
He killed Nina because she was a threat, but the bigger threat is inside him, he realizes this now, and the only way to kill that monster, to keep everyone safe is to get rid of it. It's time to do his duty to his country, exterminate the biggest threat. Himself.
He's nearing the room now, knowing with those gut instincts he's honed that this is the right way to do it. Events keep coming back to this place in frightening symmetry, like something one of his English professors would point out in a novel they were studying in class. "Note the importance of this location to the hero--or rather the antihero's quest. The place where his wife was killed, setting him on this path to self-destruction, the place where he killed his adversary, highlighting his inner devolution; now coming full circle to where he will meet his destruction, a poignant reminder of the beginning of his journey in the unfailing inevitability of the outcome."
There aren't any second thoughts as he nears the door, no regrets; not about this act, anyway. He remembers hearing someone say once that somewhere out there, everyone has a bullet with their name on it, and the trick is to die of old age before it finds you. But he knows where his bullet is. It's sitting in the chamber of his gun, ready to be fired, and it's about time he met it. And so as he walks, his back is straight, his head up, a look of purpose in his eyes. He's going on another mission. His last.
Like any mission, he has a plan. He'll walk in that room, kneel on the floor, put the gun to his forehead and pull the trigger, blowing a neat hole through his brain; die like Ryan, only backwards, making the decision for himself, willingly, instead of on the whim of a terrorist. Like Ryan, but backwards, with a small, perfectly round entry hole between his eyes and the large, ragged, pulpy exit wound at the back of his head, where his hair is thinning slightly. Both different sacrifices, one to appease a threat, one to eliminate the threat itself, but to the same end, to make sure that people could go to sleep at night and not have to worry about what the next day would bring.
The door is ahead of him now, he can see it. It's fitting that he'll die here, die making a sacrifice no one will every really know of or understand, like if he'd died under so many other circumstances. Buried with a fiction, because he's not leaving an explanation. So instead they'll come up with the fiction on their own, like they would if he'd died in the field; they'l explain it away, giving reasons like guilt, sorrow, shock--all of which will be true, because the best fictions contain some truth--none of them the primary reason. No one knows what really lies inside him, so they won't know that this isn't just because of his pain, his guilt,. That he's really doing this for others, to save them pain in their own lives. Protecting his country and its citizens. "It is right and good to die for one's country." It was the promise he'd made so many years ago--to lay down his life without hestiation if it meant keeping the innocent citizens of his country safe, and he always knew that some day he'd have to make good on it.
Without hesitation, his expression calm and determined, he reaches out and turns the knob of the door to the transformer room at CTU, and opens it.
Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.
Characters: Jack Bauer
Rating: R
Summary: The second of three possible entry posts for Jack's return to Milliways after Season 4, based on the spoilers that were coming out a couple weeks before the finale. In this one, Jack has well and truly snapped. For background, see option 1.
Warnings: Character death, dark themes, intended suicide.
Originally written: May, 2005
He signs the letter with a steady hand, scrawling his signature like he's adding it to one of a thousand reports he's written up over the last year. An ordinary, government report, to be passed across Heller's desk, across the desk of the Secretary of Homeland Security, the Secretary of State, the President. Only this isn't going any further than Heller's eyes, and maybe Audrey's.
Secretary Heller;
I hereby resign from my position as Special Assistant to the Secretary of Defense, effective immediately.
Sincerely,
Jack Bauer
He signs it quickly, without hesitation, and leaves it at the CTU main desk, where Heller will have to sign out when he leaves. He isn't sure why he's bothers to write this letter, the point is a moot one, anyway. But it's a loose end, and he hates loose ends. Better to do it this way; it's the only goodbye he needs to make.
He'd thought earlier, after the warhead was contained, about going straight from CTU to the bar he knew of in L.A., where you told the bartender what you wanted to drink and handed him the money to pay for the drink plus a little extra to cover however much smack you wanted, delivered under the counter as your drink arrived. He could go there and get himself enough heroin for one hell of a fix; and who gave a shit if it was falling off the wagon after being clean for a year and a half, or about going through those symptoms of withdrawal again, when the last time he'd done it, he'd sworn it would be the last time.
He didn't care, because with any luck he'd OD long before that, and there were a hell of a lot of worse ways to die than riding that high, surrounded by that warm blanket of peace and security. You could die like Paul, quietly, as someone forced the doctors trying to save your life to save someone else's, someone who worked with terrorists; die like Tony, dragged into a situation you hadn't wanted any part of, caught in some sick game of chicken.
But then he'd thought about it and decided, why bother? Why bother going through all that trouble, wasting time on something that might come back to bite him in the ass in the end? The solution could be so much simpler, so much easier, so much more fitting.
He walks through the halls of CTU, not really looking at any of the people he's passing, down the still-familiar hallways. It will be better this way, he's convinced of that for so many reasons.
He knows he's going to break a promise to Kim, but then he's broken so many promises to her before, what's one more added to the list? Besides, he knows that if he doesn't break this promise, he'll just keep doing, keep breaking his promises to her, keep disappointing her, keep breaking her heart. Break one promise to keep from breaking so many more, it'll all be better in the end.
It'll even things up. Kim can move on, finally forget that past that haunts her, and Audrey, Michelle and the Chappelles will finally have the resolution, the justice they deserve. He'll be doing the right thing, and not just for them. For everyone. He'll be doing what he's supposed to be doing, protecting his country, because the darkness inside him is a threat to everyone, he sees that now. He's done what Nina did to him, destroyed families, ripped people away from those they loved with no warning, killed so many innocent people. And if he has to, he'll do it again, let the monster inside him out of its cage and let it do its work. And that's why he has to do this now, to save more innocent lives, because the one thing that scares him is that one day he'll let the monster out of its cage and he won't be able to get it back inside.
He killed Nina because she was a threat, but the bigger threat is inside him, he realizes this now, and the only way to kill that monster, to keep everyone safe is to get rid of it. It's time to do his duty to his country, exterminate the biggest threat. Himself.
He's nearing the room now, knowing with those gut instincts he's honed that this is the right way to do it. Events keep coming back to this place in frightening symmetry, like something one of his English professors would point out in a novel they were studying in class. "Note the importance of this location to the hero--or rather the antihero's quest. The place where his wife was killed, setting him on this path to self-destruction, the place where he killed his adversary, highlighting his inner devolution; now coming full circle to where he will meet his destruction, a poignant reminder of the beginning of his journey in the unfailing inevitability of the outcome."
There aren't any second thoughts as he nears the door, no regrets; not about this act, anyway. He remembers hearing someone say once that somewhere out there, everyone has a bullet with their name on it, and the trick is to die of old age before it finds you. But he knows where his bullet is. It's sitting in the chamber of his gun, ready to be fired, and it's about time he met it. And so as he walks, his back is straight, his head up, a look of purpose in his eyes. He's going on another mission. His last.
Like any mission, he has a plan. He'll walk in that room, kneel on the floor, put the gun to his forehead and pull the trigger, blowing a neat hole through his brain; die like Ryan, only backwards, making the decision for himself, willingly, instead of on the whim of a terrorist. Like Ryan, but backwards, with a small, perfectly round entry hole between his eyes and the large, ragged, pulpy exit wound at the back of his head, where his hair is thinning slightly. Both different sacrifices, one to appease a threat, one to eliminate the threat itself, but to the same end, to make sure that people could go to sleep at night and not have to worry about what the next day would bring.
The door is ahead of him now, he can see it. It's fitting that he'll die here, die making a sacrifice no one will every really know of or understand, like if he'd died under so many other circumstances. Buried with a fiction, because he's not leaving an explanation. So instead they'll come up with the fiction on their own, like they would if he'd died in the field; they'l explain it away, giving reasons like guilt, sorrow, shock--all of which will be true, because the best fictions contain some truth--none of them the primary reason. No one knows what really lies inside him, so they won't know that this isn't just because of his pain, his guilt,. That he's really doing this for others, to save them pain in their own lives. Protecting his country and its citizens. "It is right and good to die for one's country." It was the promise he'd made so many years ago--to lay down his life without hestiation if it meant keeping the innocent citizens of his country safe, and he always knew that some day he'd have to make good on it.
Without hesitation, his expression calm and determined, he reaches out and turns the knob of the door to the transformer room at CTU, and opens it.
Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.