geeky_agent | Nothing

Current Mood: empty
Current Music: Cold, cold water surrounds me now

Nothing

She wanted to sleep. She felt like she'd been hollowed out. Something about her conversation with Jack made her feel the same way she had when she found out her father died.

Nothing's changed. When I leave here my father will be gone forever and I'll go back to my life.

Can't tell anyone about this. Not about seeing her dad, not about the facts surrounding his death. Nothing.

She couldn't change anything. There wasn't any justice for her father. She had just to accept this - that was the worst of it.

No.

No, the worst was that after she told him about her family, she watched his face crumple and heard the tears in voice and for a brief moment she almost felt sorry for him. The man who murdered father.

Whether she would go through with them or not she had been toying with the idea of getting back at him. It hadn't mattered if she would do it, just the fact that she could do it. That she could take control, do something.

But Chris knew, she wouldn't be able to do that. Her anger was already slipping away from her only to replaced by this hollowness.

She had nothing.

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She leans against him. "I wish I was because then maybe I wouldn't feel so helpless and powerless to do anything."

"Chris, I don't think there's anything you can do to Jack that will make your pain go away. It won't take away that empty feeling. I know you love me and and you want to try and make this right or even somehow. But you can't. All you can do is try to move on with your life. I just want you to be happy."

"And the worst thing is that I can't even properly hate him." She takes a breath. "I think if anyone else had done it I wouldn't feel this way because at least there'd be *some* chance to get justice. But he really is untouchable."

He is, Ryan thought bitterly as her words brought to mind old arguments.

"I know," he says calmly.

"I heard stories at Division and even CTU-NY and I didn't think any of them could really be true. I thought there's no way that CTU-LA had a trained killer on their payroll or that President Palmer could ever be friends with someone who most people wouldn't trust in a room alone with a suspect..." she swallows. "And I hate that you were killed by someone like that. I hate that you're never coming home."

That last sentence is almost like a knife to the heart.

"I hate it too. I've missed you - all of you, so much," he admits to her.

"I want to tell Caiti and Ryan about this place, I want to tell them that I saw dad and he's okay. I wish I could bring her here because then maybe she'd be more like the sister I remember and less like the shell that's existed for the past year."

She doesn't bother wiping away her tears.

He hugs her a little tighter. The thought of what Caiti was going through twists the knife a little more.

"I don't know if that's possible."

"I know, because they wouldn't believe me. Because *I* wouldn't believe me."

She wraps her arms around him, holding him in a way that she rarely did when he was alive.

"It's not fair that some people seem to get to make their own rules and other people have to live with the consequences."

"I know," he says with a sigh, "I wish there was something I can say or do to make you feel better."

"You could hate him with me. I'd feel less alone then. Because right now, when I go back, I'm the only one who knows. And I have to live with this knowledge for the rest of my life."

Ryan wonders how he could answer this. He wasn't sure if he could make himself feel something he didn't. Make himself believe something that went against logic.

But he knew what she meant about being alone. Not having anyone to talk to. No one who understood how you felt. He didn't want her to go through that.

"All right."

She's surprised because he sounds reluctant.

"That wasn't very convincing."

He turns to look at her, his eyebrow raised.

"What do you want me to say, Christine?"

"I don't want you to say anything. I just want you to feel the way I do and you don't and I can't understand how you don't."

She turns to look at him. "If he had killed me, you'd feel angry, wouldn't you? Hate him?"

"Yes, I would..."

He rubs his forehead, trying to figure out some way to get through to her. Jack was an idiot.

Telling her was a mistake. He knew it. He should have told Jack that and threatened anyone else who knew if they told.

"But the difference is, it was my life to give. I chose to die. If I had been able to pull the trigger, I would have been dead by my own hand," he says through clenched teeth, "I couldn't do it so Jack did."

She stares at him. If possible she feels even emptier.

"You weren't really given a choice," she sniffles. "You had no choice and..."

She closes her eyes and leans against him, not even bothering to try to stop the tears.

"You were like Mason," she whispers. "But no one was there to save you."

Because suddenly the anger's gone and all that's left is the emptiness.

There are things he wants to say now but doesn't. He thinks he's almost reached her but he doesn't want to risk it. He doesn't want to push her back over the edge.

Ryan almost smiles when he notices a kleenex box next to him. He takes a few kleenex out and holds them out for Chris.

Chris takes the tissues and wipes at her eyes and blows her nose. She holds them in a ball in her hand and leans back against him.

"I love you and I think I sort of understand."

It takes a lot of willpower for Ryan not to sigh in relief right now.

"I love you too," he takes a brief pause,"Starbuck."

Despite the way she's feeling, the old nickname makes her smile a little.

She swallows. "This is somewhere beyond the sea, I guess." She whispers.

"I guess so," Ryan says with a soft laugh.

"Why don't you try some of the soup before it gets cold?"

She nods and with a little effort stands and picks up the tray and sits back down and puts it on her lap. Her hands are no longer shaking.

She takes a spoonful of soup, somehow it's not freezing cold. And then another spoonful. And then she's remembering exactly how long it's been since she's eaten. And the soup is all gone.

"I think I'm going to try to sleep a little."

Ryan wonders if he sould have brought more soup after watching her nearly inhale that bowl.

"Good idea. Talk to you in the morning?"

She nods and stands to put the tray back on the table and also to walk him to the door.

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http://users.livejournal.com/_chappy_/ - 2005-03-22 12:01 (UTC) - Expand

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