The Mirror Ch. 5
Sorry for crowding up people's f-page, I'm just finally getting the rest of this fic posted up here now that it's done.
Title: The Mirror Ch. 5
Author: redlucy07 (Sophia)
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Pairing: Jack/Renee
Warnings: References to suicide, self harm, violence, mild sexual situations
Summary: Nothing makes you more angry than the fact that she will fight for anyone but herself. Set after Day 8. J/R. Now complete.
Disclaimer: Don't own, not trying to make money, blah blah.
You aren't sure what time it is when you stir but the light is so strong you see bright orange behind your eyelids. As a habit you don't sleep late but it seems the time difference has gotten the best of you. You shiver, aware of the absence of the warm fire and the warm woman you fell asleep with. You smile into your pillow as you remember the evening, wanting nothing more than to reach over touch her soft hair, but you can tell she isn't in the bed.
In the back of your mind, guilt is blossoming. Not regret - you have far worse things to regret than kissing a beautiful woman. But guilt, because you know that by letting it happen you've set both of you up for more pain. You've been in enough serious relationships to know that nothing lasts forever. It's simply an unfortunate side effect of the path you've chosen. Still, the other part of you argues, both of you have lived too much darkness to pass up the chance for something good and pure, even if it's only temporary. Who are you to push her away? To see light in her eyes again is more than you could have hope for. The last thing you want is for it to go out - and for that to be your fault.
You jolt fully awake when you hear the sound of a gun being cocked. "Renee-"
She whips around, a shotgun in hand. "Sorry! I should have known better than to do that."
You swipe at your eyes, trying to rub away the drowsiness. "Where did you get that?"
Renee shrugs. "Grocery store. I also got some food." You slide out of bed and stretch your arms behind you. On the table there are a couple more handguns, a shotgun, a compact sniper rifle, a grenade, a knife, a pair of cuffs, and a pair of binoculars. "Your pick," she says, gesturing to the three handguns on the table.
You raise your eyebrow at the mini-arsenal laid out on the table, but pick up the HK USP 9mm. It's an older model but the weight still feels familiar in your hand. "That's what I thought," she says. "How do you like your eggs?"
"You got these at a grocery store?" you ask incredulously, putting the safety back on and setting the gun down.
"I know the guy. It's hard making a living as a grocer in Russia, so he has a business on the side. He was pretty happy to see me," her eyes travel down your naked torso.
"I'm pretty happy to see you too," you murmur, a hand trailing down her arm. Her hair is in a messy ponytail with odd tendrils trailing down her neck. You're unable to resist the impulse to kiss the bare skin there. You hear her soft sigh and the click of the gun as she sets it back down on the table. She turns to face you and presses her lips to yours, and this time she's forward and insistent and aggressive instead of gently hesitant like the previous night. Still, good as this is, you can feel the poisonous tinge of desperation, that urgent feeling of time running out, for this, for her. Her fingers trail lightly down your neck, and heat rushes through your entire body, intense and consuming, like life and sweet death all at once. You indulge her (yourself) when her tongue slides out to meet yours but when her hands slide down your chest, getting dangerously close to the waistband of your pants, force yourself away. "Scrambled," you gasp. You struggle to extricate your fantasy of pushing all the guns off the table and having her right then and there from reality.
"What?" she asks, cheeks flushed, chest heaving. You try and focus.
"I like my eggs scrambled," you manage. "I'm going to shower."
You practically flee. The last thing you see before you close the bathroom door is her standing with a hand on her hip and her coquettish half-smile and you're unable to remove the image from your mind. You suck in a deep breath and turn on the shower, for once thankful that the water runs cold. You try not to imagine her as you take care of your raging hard-on, but you fail spectacularly as you remember the feeling of her body pressed flush against yours.
When you re-emerged fifteen minutes later, clean and under control, there is a steaming plate of scrambled eggs waiting on the table for you. "Thank you," you smile at her and sit down, suddenly ravenous.
"You're welcome," she says, not looking at you. The earlier, playful mood seems to have evaporated, like volatile gas, impossible to contain.
She smirks, but then it fades from her face. Her thoughts are clearly somewhere else. "I want to go tonight," she says flatly.
"Are you sure we're ready?" you ask, concerned. You could probably spend another few days going over details, scoping out the property.
"I'll show you the place after breakfast. Through the woods," she beckons to the wooded area behind the house, "there's a ridge overlooking the valley where Vlad's house is. I can't wait any longer, Jack," she says, urgently. "Every day feels like an eternity. I need it to be done."
You hate it when she makes ambiguous statements like that. What is 'it'? Is it the mission, or is it her life? You wish you could just convince her to stay put (or tie her up) while you go kill Vlad yourself. You might even find it almost as satisfying as she would. But you know you can't cheat her out of the revenge she deserves, even if it's because you want to protect her.
You wash your dish as she puts on a light jacket and stows her gun in her pants. You do the same and put the sniper rifle in your duffle bag along with a notepad, pen, and the binoculars.
"Ready?" you ask. She doesn't look ready, but she nods silently. You hold out a hand, and she takes it without hesitation.
The rain has stopped but the sky is still overcast and the ground is wet and your feet squelch and slide in the mud. There's no grass, only the odd bush as you approach the tree line. Renee almost falls more than once, but you keep her steady. Finally the ground evens out when you hit the wood, a layer of brown leaves coating the ground.
You walk silently for about a half mile before the trees thin and you can see the skyline beyond. "We need to stay low, just in case. Those bushes there?" she points to some brush about twenty yards away. It's good cover, should anyone be looking. You nod. "Should be a good vantage point." You both crouch and creep slowly forward before getting right on your bellies in the mud. The drop beneath you is precipitous and slick, with jagged rocks jutting out from the mud. Far too steep and long to try and climb down.
You unzip the duffel bag and take out the binoculars, which you pass to Renee, and the sniper, which you set up to test the scope. There is a single dirt road leading into the valley and two acreages set wide apart, front of the houses facing you. "On the left," Renee says, "with the farmhouse." A tall fence surrounds the house. Through the scope you can see a man in the gatehouse and a couple of others near the barn, working. "All armed," she informs you, passing over the binoculars. Her eyes are wide, glassy, distant.
You sketch the area on your notepad, noting the best sniper angles. You discuss logistics for a few minutes before you notice the front door open and several men file out, all headed towards a truck parked in the driveway. "Where are they going?" you ask.
Renee shrugs. "Business. Vlad isn't with them," she still seems sad and far away.
"Hey," you say gently, "you alright?" You reach out a hand but she seems to shrink away from you, still gazing out at Vladimir's house.
"That was my home for almost two years," she says.
"Do you want a minute?" you ask, sensing her need for momentary solitude.
She nods. "You can start heading back."
"You sure?" you look at her doubtfully, reluctant to leave her alone.
"I'll be fine," she glances at you and tries to smile reassuringly, but it isn't quite that. "I'll catch up with you in a few minutes. I promise," she adds, seriously, and you believe her.
"Ok," you dismantle the sniper rifle and load it into the duffle bag before rising into a crouch and brushing the leaves off your front.
You walk back at a leisurely pace to give Renee a chance to catch up with you. You can feel anticipation thrumming in your extremities, the beginnings of the stream of adrenaline that gets you through difficult operations. This time, though, even though the stakes are smaller, they are far more personal. You think of Kim and of your grand-baby and you wonder if you're doing the right thing - you feel guilty for constantly putting your ass on the line and worrying them, but you feel equally strongly the conviction that what you're doing now is the right thing, something that needs to be done because there are only a handful of people in the world who you truly care about, and Renee is one. You reach into your pocket and feel out your phone, quickly doing a mental calculation on the time difference. It's late in LA but Kim might still be up. You pause, now at the edge of the trees, and dial her number, suddenly wanting to hear her voice. She must be worried - you haven't checked in in days, and she must have heard by now about Renee's escape from the hospital.
There is a long pause and then you hear the ringing. "Bauer," you hear, her voice crackling slightly across the bad line.
"Kim, it's me," you say.
She makes an impatient clicking noise. "Where have you been? CTU is looking for you and Renee!"
"I know. I'm in Russia helping Renee take care of some business. I'll be back in a few days. Don't tell anyone I called, ok?"
"Dad, are you sure this is a good idea? You're both going to be in trouble when you get back. I heard Renee assaulted a nurse!" You sigh and make a mental note to ask her about that later.
"I know, and I'll take care of it then, but this is something I have to do, baby. Trust me."
"You really care about her, don't you?"
You pause, smile, ever surprised at how perceptive Kim is when it comes to you. "Yeah sweetheart, I do. Tell Teri I love her, ok?"
Kim's voice cracks and this time it isn't the line. "I will. Be careful, dad. I love you."
"I love you more than anything, Kim. I'll see you in a few days," you say, and you really hope it's true.
You snap your phone closed and take one step forward before you feel a sharp pain in the back of your head and the world goes black.
------
You're underwater. Your eyes are seemingly stuck shut. You flail, terrified, but the water makes movement slow and difficult and your arms simply don't seem to be working. You hold your breath for as long as you possibly can before you can no longer fight the impulse to breath and open your mouth. Curiously, as you inhale desperately only a few drops of water trickle in, making you cough.
"Mr. Meier," you hear someone say, and suddenly the world flickers in and out of focus. "Or, should I say, Mr. Bauer." Your shirt is wet, and you realize someone just threw a glass of water in your face. You're tied to a chair, hands bound behind you and your legs each tied to a chair leg. Your head throbs painfully. In front of you is Vladimir Laitanan.
You squint your eyes as you try and remember what happened. They must have ambushed you just by the woods after you finished talking to Kim. A hot burst of panic rushes through you as you remember Renee and look wildly around the room for her, but she isn't there. "Where is she?" you bark, voice hoarse from hours of misuse. The curtains are drawn but you can you can still see the light outside. You can't have been out long.
"It's not quite what you think, Mr. Bauer," Laitanan smiles cockily, one hand resting lightly on your gun which is now in his possession. "It was Renee who hit you. I should thank her for saving me the trouble."
You strain against your bonds, confused. "I don't believe you."
He shrugs, unconcerned. "You can ask her yourself when she gets here. I'm sure you won't have to wait long."
"You son of a bitch, if you even touch her I swear I'll kill you myself," you spit furiously.
Laitanan doesn't seem too fazed by this. "Look, Jack. Can I call you Jack? I am sorry you are here to witness this, but you should have known better than to come along. Rest assured your death will be quick and painless."
"The only person who's going to die today is you, and I can't promise your death will be either of those things." You scan the room slowly, looking for anything you might be able to use to escape your bonds. There is an armed man standing at the door.
Laitanan laughs unpleasantly. "You aren't exactly in a position to be making such threats, are you? Surely, Jack, a man like you must understand a man's need to defend his honour. Renee betrayed me, and I simply cannot let that go."
"She betrayed you after you raped and abused her," you snap.
A glass shatters as it hits the floor. You've obviously touched a nerve. "She made the mistake of arousing my temper, just as you do now," he shouts. "She was a cop, just like you!" He reaches for a roll of duct tape and rips off a piece. You try and butt him away as he comes close, but he catches you by the neck and slaps the tape over your mouth. You breathe heavily through your nose, livid.
Laitanan uncorks a bottle of brandy and pours himself a snifter. "Too bad you had to run your mouth, Jack, or I might have poured you a drink," he says, taking a sip. The drink seems to calm him. "Why don't we discuss our mutual friend? I was quite taken when I first met her, as I'm sure you were. Clever, smart, strong. A good fuck," he adds, lips curling. You try and slow your breathing, but there's no way to quell the disgust and loathing. "As I'm sure you know," he peers at you. "Oh, no? You'll just have to take my word for it."
You flinch against your bonds as the door seems to explode and suddenly the guard there drops to the ground, dead, expression only the beginnings of surprise. There's a large, splintered hole in the door, but you only have a moment to look before it swings open with a bang. Laitanan acts just as quickly, gun cocked and pressed up against your temple.
Renee walks in, shotgun in the air. Her face is hard, expressionless.
Until she sees you. Surprise, then fear, filter through her eyes.
"Renee, so glad you could join us," Laitanan says nastily. "Now drop the weapon or your friend dies."
On to Chapter 6
Title: The Mirror Ch. 5
Author: redlucy07 (Sophia)
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Pairing: Jack/Renee
Warnings: References to suicide, self harm, violence, mild sexual situations
Summary: Nothing makes you more angry than the fact that she will fight for anyone but herself. Set after Day 8. J/R. Now complete.
Disclaimer: Don't own, not trying to make money, blah blah.
You aren't sure what time it is when you stir but the light is so strong you see bright orange behind your eyelids. As a habit you don't sleep late but it seems the time difference has gotten the best of you. You shiver, aware of the absence of the warm fire and the warm woman you fell asleep with. You smile into your pillow as you remember the evening, wanting nothing more than to reach over touch her soft hair, but you can tell she isn't in the bed.
In the back of your mind, guilt is blossoming. Not regret - you have far worse things to regret than kissing a beautiful woman. But guilt, because you know that by letting it happen you've set both of you up for more pain. You've been in enough serious relationships to know that nothing lasts forever. It's simply an unfortunate side effect of the path you've chosen. Still, the other part of you argues, both of you have lived too much darkness to pass up the chance for something good and pure, even if it's only temporary. Who are you to push her away? To see light in her eyes again is more than you could have hope for. The last thing you want is for it to go out - and for that to be your fault.
You jolt fully awake when you hear the sound of a gun being cocked. "Renee-"
She whips around, a shotgun in hand. "Sorry! I should have known better than to do that."
You swipe at your eyes, trying to rub away the drowsiness. "Where did you get that?"
Renee shrugs. "Grocery store. I also got some food." You slide out of bed and stretch your arms behind you. On the table there are a couple more handguns, a shotgun, a compact sniper rifle, a grenade, a knife, a pair of cuffs, and a pair of binoculars. "Your pick," she says, gesturing to the three handguns on the table.
You raise your eyebrow at the mini-arsenal laid out on the table, but pick up the HK USP 9mm. It's an older model but the weight still feels familiar in your hand. "That's what I thought," she says. "How do you like your eggs?"
"You got these at a grocery store?" you ask incredulously, putting the safety back on and setting the gun down.
"I know the guy. It's hard making a living as a grocer in Russia, so he has a business on the side. He was pretty happy to see me," her eyes travel down your naked torso.
"I'm pretty happy to see you too," you murmur, a hand trailing down her arm. Her hair is in a messy ponytail with odd tendrils trailing down her neck. You're unable to resist the impulse to kiss the bare skin there. You hear her soft sigh and the click of the gun as she sets it back down on the table. She turns to face you and presses her lips to yours, and this time she's forward and insistent and aggressive instead of gently hesitant like the previous night. Still, good as this is, you can feel the poisonous tinge of desperation, that urgent feeling of time running out, for this, for her. Her fingers trail lightly down your neck, and heat rushes through your entire body, intense and consuming, like life and sweet death all at once. You indulge her (yourself) when her tongue slides out to meet yours but when her hands slide down your chest, getting dangerously close to the waistband of your pants, force yourself away. "Scrambled," you gasp. You struggle to extricate your fantasy of pushing all the guns off the table and having her right then and there from reality.
"What?" she asks, cheeks flushed, chest heaving. You try and focus.
"I like my eggs scrambled," you manage. "I'm going to shower."
You practically flee. The last thing you see before you close the bathroom door is her standing with a hand on her hip and her coquettish half-smile and you're unable to remove the image from your mind. You suck in a deep breath and turn on the shower, for once thankful that the water runs cold. You try not to imagine her as you take care of your raging hard-on, but you fail spectacularly as you remember the feeling of her body pressed flush against yours.
When you re-emerged fifteen minutes later, clean and under control, there is a steaming plate of scrambled eggs waiting on the table for you. "Thank you," you smile at her and sit down, suddenly ravenous.
"You're welcome," she says, not looking at you. The earlier, playful mood seems to have evaporated, like volatile gas, impossible to contain.
She smirks, but then it fades from her face. Her thoughts are clearly somewhere else. "I want to go tonight," she says flatly.
"Are you sure we're ready?" you ask, concerned. You could probably spend another few days going over details, scoping out the property.
"I'll show you the place after breakfast. Through the woods," she beckons to the wooded area behind the house, "there's a ridge overlooking the valley where Vlad's house is. I can't wait any longer, Jack," she says, urgently. "Every day feels like an eternity. I need it to be done."
You hate it when she makes ambiguous statements like that. What is 'it'? Is it the mission, or is it her life? You wish you could just convince her to stay put (or tie her up) while you go kill Vlad yourself. You might even find it almost as satisfying as she would. But you know you can't cheat her out of the revenge she deserves, even if it's because you want to protect her.
You wash your dish as she puts on a light jacket and stows her gun in her pants. You do the same and put the sniper rifle in your duffle bag along with a notepad, pen, and the binoculars.
"Ready?" you ask. She doesn't look ready, but she nods silently. You hold out a hand, and she takes it without hesitation.
The rain has stopped but the sky is still overcast and the ground is wet and your feet squelch and slide in the mud. There's no grass, only the odd bush as you approach the tree line. Renee almost falls more than once, but you keep her steady. Finally the ground evens out when you hit the wood, a layer of brown leaves coating the ground.
You walk silently for about a half mile before the trees thin and you can see the skyline beyond. "We need to stay low, just in case. Those bushes there?" she points to some brush about twenty yards away. It's good cover, should anyone be looking. You nod. "Should be a good vantage point." You both crouch and creep slowly forward before getting right on your bellies in the mud. The drop beneath you is precipitous and slick, with jagged rocks jutting out from the mud. Far too steep and long to try and climb down.
You unzip the duffel bag and take out the binoculars, which you pass to Renee, and the sniper, which you set up to test the scope. There is a single dirt road leading into the valley and two acreages set wide apart, front of the houses facing you. "On the left," Renee says, "with the farmhouse." A tall fence surrounds the house. Through the scope you can see a man in the gatehouse and a couple of others near the barn, working. "All armed," she informs you, passing over the binoculars. Her eyes are wide, glassy, distant.
You sketch the area on your notepad, noting the best sniper angles. You discuss logistics for a few minutes before you notice the front door open and several men file out, all headed towards a truck parked in the driveway. "Where are they going?" you ask.
Renee shrugs. "Business. Vlad isn't with them," she still seems sad and far away.
"Hey," you say gently, "you alright?" You reach out a hand but she seems to shrink away from you, still gazing out at Vladimir's house.
"That was my home for almost two years," she says.
"Do you want a minute?" you ask, sensing her need for momentary solitude.
She nods. "You can start heading back."
"You sure?" you look at her doubtfully, reluctant to leave her alone.
"I'll be fine," she glances at you and tries to smile reassuringly, but it isn't quite that. "I'll catch up with you in a few minutes. I promise," she adds, seriously, and you believe her.
"Ok," you dismantle the sniper rifle and load it into the duffle bag before rising into a crouch and brushing the leaves off your front.
You walk back at a leisurely pace to give Renee a chance to catch up with you. You can feel anticipation thrumming in your extremities, the beginnings of the stream of adrenaline that gets you through difficult operations. This time, though, even though the stakes are smaller, they are far more personal. You think of Kim and of your grand-baby and you wonder if you're doing the right thing - you feel guilty for constantly putting your ass on the line and worrying them, but you feel equally strongly the conviction that what you're doing now is the right thing, something that needs to be done because there are only a handful of people in the world who you truly care about, and Renee is one. You reach into your pocket and feel out your phone, quickly doing a mental calculation on the time difference. It's late in LA but Kim might still be up. You pause, now at the edge of the trees, and dial her number, suddenly wanting to hear her voice. She must be worried - you haven't checked in in days, and she must have heard by now about Renee's escape from the hospital.
There is a long pause and then you hear the ringing. "Bauer," you hear, her voice crackling slightly across the bad line.
"Kim, it's me," you say.
She makes an impatient clicking noise. "Where have you been? CTU is looking for you and Renee!"
"I know. I'm in Russia helping Renee take care of some business. I'll be back in a few days. Don't tell anyone I called, ok?"
"Dad, are you sure this is a good idea? You're both going to be in trouble when you get back. I heard Renee assaulted a nurse!" You sigh and make a mental note to ask her about that later.
"I know, and I'll take care of it then, but this is something I have to do, baby. Trust me."
"You really care about her, don't you?"
You pause, smile, ever surprised at how perceptive Kim is when it comes to you. "Yeah sweetheart, I do. Tell Teri I love her, ok?"
Kim's voice cracks and this time it isn't the line. "I will. Be careful, dad. I love you."
"I love you more than anything, Kim. I'll see you in a few days," you say, and you really hope it's true.
You snap your phone closed and take one step forward before you feel a sharp pain in the back of your head and the world goes black.
------
You're underwater. Your eyes are seemingly stuck shut. You flail, terrified, but the water makes movement slow and difficult and your arms simply don't seem to be working. You hold your breath for as long as you possibly can before you can no longer fight the impulse to breath and open your mouth. Curiously, as you inhale desperately only a few drops of water trickle in, making you cough.
"Mr. Meier," you hear someone say, and suddenly the world flickers in and out of focus. "Or, should I say, Mr. Bauer." Your shirt is wet, and you realize someone just threw a glass of water in your face. You're tied to a chair, hands bound behind you and your legs each tied to a chair leg. Your head throbs painfully. In front of you is Vladimir Laitanan.
You squint your eyes as you try and remember what happened. They must have ambushed you just by the woods after you finished talking to Kim. A hot burst of panic rushes through you as you remember Renee and look wildly around the room for her, but she isn't there. "Where is she?" you bark, voice hoarse from hours of misuse. The curtains are drawn but you can you can still see the light outside. You can't have been out long.
"It's not quite what you think, Mr. Bauer," Laitanan smiles cockily, one hand resting lightly on your gun which is now in his possession. "It was Renee who hit you. I should thank her for saving me the trouble."
You strain against your bonds, confused. "I don't believe you."
He shrugs, unconcerned. "You can ask her yourself when she gets here. I'm sure you won't have to wait long."
"You son of a bitch, if you even touch her I swear I'll kill you myself," you spit furiously.
Laitanan doesn't seem too fazed by this. "Look, Jack. Can I call you Jack? I am sorry you are here to witness this, but you should have known better than to come along. Rest assured your death will be quick and painless."
"The only person who's going to die today is you, and I can't promise your death will be either of those things." You scan the room slowly, looking for anything you might be able to use to escape your bonds. There is an armed man standing at the door.
Laitanan laughs unpleasantly. "You aren't exactly in a position to be making such threats, are you? Surely, Jack, a man like you must understand a man's need to defend his honour. Renee betrayed me, and I simply cannot let that go."
"She betrayed you after you raped and abused her," you snap.
A glass shatters as it hits the floor. You've obviously touched a nerve. "She made the mistake of arousing my temper, just as you do now," he shouts. "She was a cop, just like you!" He reaches for a roll of duct tape and rips off a piece. You try and butt him away as he comes close, but he catches you by the neck and slaps the tape over your mouth. You breathe heavily through your nose, livid.
Laitanan uncorks a bottle of brandy and pours himself a snifter. "Too bad you had to run your mouth, Jack, or I might have poured you a drink," he says, taking a sip. The drink seems to calm him. "Why don't we discuss our mutual friend? I was quite taken when I first met her, as I'm sure you were. Clever, smart, strong. A good fuck," he adds, lips curling. You try and slow your breathing, but there's no way to quell the disgust and loathing. "As I'm sure you know," he peers at you. "Oh, no? You'll just have to take my word for it."
You flinch against your bonds as the door seems to explode and suddenly the guard there drops to the ground, dead, expression only the beginnings of surprise. There's a large, splintered hole in the door, but you only have a moment to look before it swings open with a bang. Laitanan acts just as quickly, gun cocked and pressed up against your temple.
Renee walks in, shotgun in the air. Her face is hard, expressionless.
Until she sees you. Surprise, then fear, filter through her eyes.
"Renee, so glad you could join us," Laitanan says nastily. "Now drop the weapon or your friend dies."
On to Chapter 6