agirllost | AU Post Season Five

About two years ago, Jack and Kim Bauer entered Milliways and were changed forever.

Karen and I thought it would be fun (horribly breaky) to see what would happen if they discovered the bar post 24 day 5 canon. More specifically, post day 6 prequel.

Hope you enjoy reading.

POST DAY FIVE

Kim found herself in this place a few days ago. She was confused at first and still a little wary, but she's good at wasting time and that seems to be the only thing to do around here.

A sentient bar, the universe ending outside, it was all a little too hard to believe and yet she'd never been disagnosed as delusional.

She comes downstairs, ruffling her short blonde hair. After that day at CTU, she hadn't wanted long hair anymore, remembering seeing her reflection in the glass while so many people died and --

She twists the ring on her left hand. After finding out about Chris's betrayal and death and Miriam had withdrawn and she'd almost gone to her uncle and grandfather but she knew what her dad felt about them. Instead, she clung onto Barry tighter and when she asked if her dad was okay, he'd lie to her. She knew they were lies because when Barry wasn't looking she'd done research and kept dreaming about those last moments over and over.

But, all of that felt far away here, and though she'd swore herself to Barry, she still misses someone else.

She sits near the window and watches the universe expand and contrast, thinking about how disaster is always on the other side.

[OOC: Warnings for angst, references to violence, and woe.]

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From:

agirllost

He seems terrified, an emotion she's never seen from him, and one she'd do almost anything to never see again. "Okay. No doctors." She tries to sound soothing, knowing she's more afraid than anything else. "I have a room." She holds out her room key, wanting to avoid touching him, and hating herself for being distant.

From:

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He reaches out, taking the key from her hand. It's probably just as well that she's being distant; he's not sure he could handle it if she'd hugged him or gotten too close, either. Usually the only time people got close to him was to inflict pain, and even though he knows she's not going to do that, he can't quite stifle the conditioned response.

"Where is it?" he asks, not meeting her eyes, wishing he didn't have to accept her help, or ask for it.

From:

agirllost

He's careful to touch only the key and she realizes he flinched slightly when she reached out. He's changed. "Upstairs. Room 21," she turns a little and looks toward the stairs. She barely stops from asking if he can handle stairs or if he needs help.

From:

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He looks over at the stairs, then back at her, meeting her eyes for a moment. Nodding, he whispers a "thanks", and start making his way toward the stairs, his steps slow and painful. They'd hit him in the knee earlier, almost as though they'd been warming up, and a jolt of pain goes through it with each step. He won't let himself stumble in front of her, though. Bad enough she'd seen him like this to begin with.

From:

agirllost

"I'll see you soon," she whispers. She watches him leave, a pained expression on her face, and folds her arms over her chest. He's walking slowly and there are more bloodstains on the back of his shirt.

He's trying to be strong for her, even after being tortured for months. The least she can do is wait until he's gone to cry over what they did to him.

Barry was wrong. He's not okay. They hurt him and kept hurting him.

When he reaches the stairs, she lets herself walk back to the table and covers her face with her hands, unable to hold back a gasped sob.

It is worse than she had imagined.

From:

action-antihero.livejournal.com

He's lucky there's a lift on the stairs, well marked, as otherwise there was no way he'd have gotten up them. After that, finding Kim's room is easy, though when he opens the door and finds what looks like a nice hotel room, it feels unreal, dreamlike. After so long in a small, bare cell, something about the room makes him uncomfortable.

More uncomfortable, though, is finding men's clothing in his size in the bathroom, neatly folded on the countertop; a towel, soap, beard trimmer and electric razor laid out for him as though someone had been expecting him. Looking around her room, he finds nothing that looks like there's a man living there, nothing to indicate that this isn't for him. His stomach twists, panic gripping him for a moment as the thought comes back to him that this might be another trap. But then it's all so elaborate. There had been so many people downstairs, they couldn't all be working for the Chinese. Kim couldn't be.

Locking the bathroom door, he stands there for a moment, staring at the things on the counter. He's avoiding the mirror with his eyes on purpose; he hasn't seen himself in a mirror for however long he's been imprisoned.

Finally, he reaches over, picking up the beard trimmer, and looks up into the mirror.

Suddenly he's not so surprised Kim didn't recognise him at first; with his long, shaggy hair an beard, deeper lines around his eyes and forehead and thinner face, he's not entirely sure he'd recognise himself.

He looks down into the sink for a moment, trying to take it all in, not sure how he feels, or if he really feels anything. Then, he turns on the trimmer and gets to work.

Twenty minutes later he's in the shower, clean-shaven, his hair down to a long buzz cut. Stepping under the stream of lukewarm water, he can feel some of the muscles in his body start to relax; the first pleasurable feeling he's had in a long time, even if the feeling of the water on some of the more recent cuts and burns makes him clench his fists in pain. For a moment, he just stands there, enjoying the feeling of the warm spray, opening his mouth and letting it run down his parched throat, before picking up the bar of soap and starting to scrub himself all over, clenching his teeth as the soapy water makes his injuried stinkg. Washing off the accumulated dirt and blood and grease, using warm water and actual shampoo and soap... It feels like the most decadent of luxuries just to feel clean again.

He doesn't want to get out of the shower, but eventually he does, wrapping himself in the warmth and softness of the towel, before pulling on the sweatpants and long-sleeved t-shirt provided, grateful that there's nothing involving zippers or buttons as the fingers on his right hand are still stiff with new scar tissue. He can't raise his arms much past shoulder height but he manages to get into his clothes, stepping out into the room.

The bed looks soft and inviting--God, how long has it been since he's slept in a bed?--but it's not his room, and lying down doesn't feel right. Instead he takes a seat in one of the chairs--still much mroe comfortable than anything he's experienced in a long time--and sits in the silence, trying to believe that this isn't all fake, that it isn't a hallucination or a dream.

From:

agirllost

Kim wishes anyone else was here now instead of her. Audrey, her mom, even Tony would be able to handle this better, they'd know how to get through to him, they wouldn't be so paralyzed at the sight of his scars, and they'd be less afraid of losing him forever. She looks toward the wall, half-hoping that one of them would appear, but there's no one and she has to make a choice.

She gazes at her drink through watery eyes and takes a small sip, almost gagging on the alcohol but managing to swallow after a moment. She owes her dad more than getting drunk. She pushed him away, at the time that felt like the right decision, but seeing him in that state...maybe one more drink wouldn't hurt - no, she promised Barry and he told her that alcohol and sleeping pills weren't the answer.

Then again, Barry had never seen someone he loved tortured or the look of panic in her dad's eyes or the visible scars on his hand or known that he was to blame for the wariness and distance. She holds her hand against her cheek, after that moment she didn't think she'd see her dad again, and only by telling herself it would hurt less in the end was she able to keep from clinging to him. She already mourned him, her psyche wouldn't take another blow, but after getting that phone call, it was hard to keep him in the past. Turning away from him once was hard enough, but she had been strengthened by anger and righteousness and the situation had proved that she'd been right; he brought nothing but danger and heartache. She can't hold onto those feelings now, they're slipping away, and she's powerless against her instincts. It's one thing to write off someone who is free and okay but not part of your life anymore, it's another to know that they're being held and tortured and when they die you'll never know.

Now that she's seen him, he's real again, and she can't make herself walk away. Perhaps she'll never be able to leave him again - it is out of her hands, he appeared here, he needs her and confirmed every fear she's been living with for over half a year. She's finding it almost impossible to stay angry with someone who looks so lost, who won't even trust doctors, who stared at her without any defenses and kept tensing and waiting for her to hurt him. The realization hits her that this is what he disappeared to keep from happening, and it's hard to blame anyone for choosing to run away rather than facing that fate. She's hurt he didn't tell her, but knowing the enemy he's facing, she can even understand that a little. Four people knew and three are dead.

She waits until her tears have dried and she's calmed down before standing up again and makes her way over to the bar. She asks Bar for a few things and soon has food and a deluxe portable first aid kit. Armed with these tools, she goes upstairs to her room and knocks softly on the door.

From:

action-antihero.livejournal.com

Jack jumps at the knock, the sound breaking the stillness so suddenly that it snaps him out of his reverie with a jolt. Moving to push himself out of the chair, the pain in his back, his shoulders and knee stops him before he gets very far. He's used to living with pain, but right now, he's too tired from everything to make the effort.

Clearing his throat, he manages to raise his voice enough so that it'll be heard on the other side of the door, even if it tears at his throat to do it. "It's not locked," he says, not failing to be struck by the novelty of someone actually knocking; an implicit request to come in, instead of just barging in like the guards always did.

From:

agirllost

She can barely hear him, but figures that means it's okay to come in and starts pushing the door open, more than a little worried about what she'll find on the other side. She's carrying the first aid kit like a laptop case and the tray has various pain killers, a thermos of soup, and a bottle of water; more bottles are tucked into the outside of the bag.

It takes her a moment to look up and relief is clear in her expression. He looks more like her dad now and less like a wounded animal. Without talking she places the tray on a table and slips the first aid kit off her shoulder and onto the floor.

From:

action-antihero.livejournal.com

He looks up briefly as she walks in, still uncomfortable meeting her eyes, or anyone's. "Thanks," he says softly, his voice still hoarse, his throat still hurting to talk. He nods toward the first aid kit. It looks brand new; not like something that belonged to the bar that she borrowed. "Where did you get that?"

From:

agirllost

"From the Bar. I know that might not make sense, but this isn't a...normal bar," she sits on the edge of the bed and opens the kit. His voice is starting to sound the way it did when she was ten and he had laryngitis for a week. "I wish you'd let a doctor look at you," she glances up at him.

From:

action-antihero.livejournal.com

He shakes his head, determined not to give in. The prison's doctors hadn't done much to help him except keep him alive, and he's still breathing at the moment. Besides, even the sight of some of the things in the first aid kit make him feel sick; he doesn't want to go anywhere near an infirmary.

"I'll be fine," he says, knowing he probably doesn't sound all that convincing.

From:

agirllost

"A doctor would be able to do something. I don't know what I'm doing," she admits, looking at the raw scar on his hand. The thought of having to clean and dress his wounds is making her queasy; it was easy to think in the abstract but now that she's in front of him she's not sure she can touch him, or that he'll let her.

From:

action-antihero.livejournal.com

"I can do it myself," he says, holding out his hand for the kit. He doesn't want her to see the extent of his scars and injuries, and it's not like he hasn't done it before. He's had to sew up his own cuts while on missions with Delta before, without the benefit of anasthetic, and this can't hurt any more than anything the Chinese had done to him.

From:

agirllost

He's taken the decision away from her, but she's not convinced. "Can you reach all of them?" She nudges the kit closer to him. "Maybe you should take two or three of the pills first."

From:

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"Yeah," he says, picking up the bottle of painkillers--extra strength. "I should be able to reach them."

From:

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She takes a breath, she can't help him, and maybe she never could. "I forgot that you don't really need anyone," she says and focuses her attention on the kit.

From:

action-antihero.livejournal.com

He's pushing himself to the edge of the chair, trying to stand as she speaks, and for once he hopes that she only sees the flash of pain on his face as simply physical.

Getting to his feet, he picks up the first aid kit.

"I learned to do without," he says, flatly, as though he was talking about giving up ice cream or smoking, trying to push the hurt and guilt away before it can swamp him.

From:

agirllost

The coldness of his tone hurts her.

She looks up, a little startled by his reaction. "Dad, I - " she whispers, unable to keep from tearing as she imagines the last few years of his life. "I'll be here, whether you need me or not."

From:

action-antihero.livejournal.com

Hearing the hurt in her voice only makes him feel worse, but if he stops to talk about it now he has a feeling he's never going to get his wounds dressed.

"I'll be back in a minute," he says, not looking at her as he shuffles over to the bathroom.

From:

agirllost

"Okay." She nods and watches him walk, reminded of how he was after his heart attack, only he's even weaker now. After the door closes she rubs her eyes and tries to get her emotions back under control.

From:

action-antihero.livejournal.com

Closing the bathroom door, Jack leans on the counter for a minute, letting his head hang, his eyes shut. It's not the pain in his back or his knee that's he's bracing himself against at the moment. Somehow, he and Kim always knew how to hurt eachother; then again he's not sure he should have expected any different, after hurting her so badly by making her believe he was dead. Even if it was to save her life.

Taking a deep breath, he tries to push his emotions aside; he'd had to learn how to ignore them--even more so than when he'd been at CTU--to just not feel anything, because they would just make him all the more likely to break.

Carefully pulling off his shirt and pants, he sets to slathering ointment on the freshest cuts and burns, covering them with self-adhesive gauze pads. None of the cuts are terribly deep; they went for areas that caused more pain than bloodshed, but some of the burns are blistered, a couple of which have popped, oozing fluid, and he grits his teeth as he covers them in ointment and bandages them.

He turns, twisting his head to look at his back in the mirror, unprepared for what he sees. There's extensive scarring there; a few old ones, but many more new. Only now does it hit him that no matter where he goes or what happens to him, what he sees in the mirror will be there forever. Even if he manages to get out--something he never lets himself think about but if this is place is real there's maybe a possibility that he can at least stay here--the scars will be with him forever, and every time he looks in the mirror he won't be able to avoid thinking about it.

Turning his head away, he stares at the opposite wall, trying to stay calm, trying to focus on the task at hand. He can't keep his hands from shaking as he tears open a new gauze pad, though.

There are only two wounds he can't reach: electrical burns that haven't blistered, so he leaves them, pulling his clothes back on. Walking back into the bedroom, he's finding it harder to keep himself upright, exhausted by everything that's happened as well as the chronic sleep deprivation they'd inflicted on him. Not meeting Kim's eyes, he takes a seat again, placing the first aid kit by his chair.

From:

agirllost

Her dad is a master at hiding how he feels, but even after being away from him for so long she sees his slumped shoulders and the way he's leaning against the back of the chair. She'd listened for signs of trouble, but even if she'd heard something, she probably wouldn't have entered the bathroom. He made it clear that he didn't want help.

She's grateful he was in the bathroom for a while, because it took her more than a few minutes to keep from sobbing and if she'd looked at his scars, there was no way she could hide her reaction.

"If you want to lie down...I'll sit in the chair," she says after a moment.