chelleuncurled | Ghost in this house

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Ghost in this house

May 10, 2012

Michelle hasn't seen Jack since the bar. She's gotten updated status reports from Chris - a cold way to think about a friend's well being, but it's easier to treat this as an investigation.

Her attempts at tracking information back to the source have hit one dead end after another. According to the evidence, a little birdie told the Chinese about Jack still being alive. She called the Toronto police, using her old CTU credentials, and asked the head officer numerous questions about the crime scene and the storage of evidence. She ran a check on her own phones to see if they were being tapped, went through her systems, but she was running out of ideas.

She stifles a yawn. Dr. Banks said being tired is normal and besides, she is still recovering from an emotional experience. When it came time during the prenatal exam to give the father's history, she almost broke down when she realized she didn't know if Tony's family ever had certain diseases and she couldn't believe she didn't ask Alex or Maria those questions before the visit. Her voice trembled as she said she'd have to get back to her on some information. Dr. Banks said a blood test would determine pregnancy and Michelle glanced up at her and told her that she knows she's pregnant and there's no way she's wrong.

The rest of the visit went normally and Michelle watched her blood fill small glass tubes and thought about how she was bleeding for two.

In the waiting area, her mom sat reading Worth and when she saw her daughter she put aside the magazine and walked over to her. Over the last few weeks, Michelle's observed that her mom's started turning Tony into a larger than life figure and using him as a surefire way to keep her from doing anything even slightly dangerous. At the same time, her mom's dislike toward Jack has only grown and Michelle's stopped giving her updates.

In a way she's trapped. Some feelings and things she can never tell anyone - she can't talk to Chris about her jealousy and she can't talk to her mom because she'll only feed her hate and she can't talk to any of her old friends because the circumstances of Tony's death are secret and even if they weren't, she's not sure what she'd say. Some mornings she misses Tony so much she can barely breathe and other times she thinks maybe today will be a good day - but then she'll spot something that reminds her of him and have to force herself to move. She still feels him with her, still expects that she'll wake up and feel his hand against hers, hear him in the shower, have him hand her coffee in the morning - so many little things she took for granted when they were first married, cherished when they were brought back together, and now miss like a sixth sense.

And she knows Jack must have been surprised when she called and asked him if he would help her get Tony's clothes ready for donation. Her mom's been mentioning it casually and more than that she knows living with his memory so strongly around her doesn't help anyone - especially herself and when she's further into her pregnancy she won't be able to lift as much and after the baby arrives it'll be difficult to find the time or energy.

There's a knock at the door and she knows he's arrived.

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"That sounds like my mom," she squeezes his hand in return. "I was avoiding you but not for the reasons she thought. I couldn't...I didn't have the strength to listen your apology or convince you that you weren't at fault. I...it was much easier to blame you."

Jack just nods, not sure what to say that he hasn't already. Even after his talk with Tony there's still a part of him that blames himself; for a moment he wonders if he should tell her about his encounter, but he's not sure he can. Not sure that she'd want to hear it, that even if she's forgiven him, that it was him that got that chance to talk with Tony, when it should have been her.

Michelle's not sure what else to say, at least the silence feels more natural now. She turns back to the dresser and opens up the next drawer.

"The jersey should go into the keep pile." Her voice is soft but it's unmistakably an order. "It'll be easier to do this without stopping."

"Yeah," Jack says, getting back to his feet and heading over to the bed. He puts the Cubs jersey aside, then goes back to folding clothes and putting them into the boxes.

Except for a few suggestions and the sound of more boxes being made, the room is quiet. Michelle stands to reach the higher drawers, wondering why she went in reverse order, and when she goes to empty the drawer, her fingers brush against metal. She pulls out the gun and places it on top of the dresser. Tony's gun. Not the one she bought him, but his gun and it was such a part of him for so long that she feels tears well up again.

"Tony's gun wasn't with his body," she says softly. "Was it left in China?"

Jack's hands stop for a moment in their folding as the memory of their capture comes back, hitting him hard. "I don't know," he says after a moment, trying to keep his voice level though he's not entirely sucessful. "The guards probably took it."

I picked out that gun, I gave to him - I still remember the look on his face when he opened the box --

And the thought of a guard having his gun - using his gun - turns her stomach.

"We should have gotten it back."

"It's not like we knew exactly where it was, and there were other things to worry about," Jack says, quietly.

"I should have been there," she doesn't take her eyes off the gun, lost for a moment in her own guilty conscience. "I should have been on the rescue mission."

Jack walks over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "If you'd been on the first one, you would have been captured too. If you'd been on the second...it would have been too late, anyway."

He's telling her what she already knows, but it doesn't ease the guilt. "Maybe one more gun would have made a difference. One more pair of eyes..."

"One more captive," Jack says flatly.

"You don't know that." She turns to look at him.

"Four pairs of eyes and four guns wouldn't have been more effective against God knows how many guards than three, not when no one even got a shot off. You don't want to have been there, Michelle," he says, staring her in the eye.

His eyes are haunted and she lowers her gaze. "At least I would have been there with him."

Jack pulls his hand back, turning away from her. "That wouldn't have been a good thing," he says, his voice a little hollow, trying to stop the images from playing in his mind again.

"I'd rather have the memory than my imagination," she says softly. "I am his wife, I should have been there."

"You don't want this memory, Michelle," Jack says, almost sternly. He raises a hand to rub his face, keeping his back to her, not wanting her to see his expression as the memory comes flooding back. "Trust me, you don't."

She doesn't have to see his face to know he's right. She would take the memory from him, if she could. She should be the one haunted by his last moments, even if she's not sure she could live with the images.

"At least he would have seen me and known that I loved him."

"He knew it anyway, Michelle. You didn't have to be there for him to know it."

She nods and looks back at the gun. "He didn't die alone," she says more to herself than to Jack. "He wasn't surrounded by strangers. I couldn't be there but at least he didn't die alone."

"No, he didn't," he says softly, walking back over to the bed and the pile of shirts yet to be put away. Tony hadn't died alone; he'd just been stuck in a Chinese prison, trapped along with three others and with only a brief chance to realize what was going on before it happened. But if that thought is enough to make her feel better he's not going to argue with it.

Michelle wants to say something more, but she doesn't know how to breach other topics. She finishes the dresser in short order and stops herself from carrying the gun over to the bed. It's not like wearing Tony's shirts or using his mug. She watches Jack fold, noticing his almost military precision.

"You're better at that than I am."

Jack's grateful for the change in subject, for something else to focus on. "The drill sergeant in basic was pretty fanatical about keeping our stuff neat, even in our footlockers. Guess I never lost the knack," he says, moving on to folding a pair of Tony's jeans.

Michelle's eyes go unfocused as she looks at the jeans and remembers running her hands up Tony's thighs and feeling the denim under her fingertips. Never again.

She forces herself back to the present. "Tony was always better at it too. He used to joke that I would have made a terrible 1950s wife."

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