thatzenithnerd

[thatzenithnerd]

Zoom - The Sequel

The Grand Return

Prologue: Castles Crumble

Thursday, May 4th, 2006 - 8:25am

Jack had stayed the week.

Tomorrow morning, he will have stayed the week, at General Larraby’s request.

Life was different for him now that he had his powers back. Now that he had saved his brother from a lifetime of suffering in a parallel universe. Now that he had four children who he rather loved. Maybe not yet like a father, but like an involved uncle. There were other things that he had, but he would rather not acknowledge that.

Every day had been the same. He woke up, he left his room at just the right time to walk Marsha Holloway to breakfast, they parted ways after some light teasing and she had a tea to take with her, and Jack spent the rest of the morning in his office doing up training drills and schedules for the week.

He had lunch with whoever was around – usually his friends – and bided his time afterwards in the research lab with Dr. Grant brainstorming new experiments and research, keeping up with his crazy inventions tailored to his team. Sometimes, Marsha was there too. When the kids got back from school, it was time for training. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday were set aside for his physical training. On Tuesday, they spent their time with Marsha going over some psychophysiological training. And Thursday, of course, was simulation day.

Then it was time for dinner and whatever the kids had planned for them in the lounge. Sometimes it was a movie, sometimes it was a board game, sometimes it was cards, baking, crafts, whatever they had up their sleeve. Him and Marsha came around for it and typically hung out as long as the kids wanted them to. Afterwards, if their friends weren’t up to no good, it was time to say goodnight.

Today was no different.

The corridors of Area 52 were usually quiet but alive with life at this time in the morning. Everyone was waking up but relatively antisocial until the coffee started flowing. Jack turned a corner and sure enough, Marsha was just coming out of her room for the day.

With her hair tied up and her glasses slipping slightly down her nose as she looked down, locking her door, Jack watched her eyes brighten when she saw him.

“Miss Holloway,” he teased, walking up to her with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his otherwise gruff face. “Running late?”

Her face fell as she glanced down at her watch. “I am not,” she shook her head.

Jack cracked a sideways grin. “Made you look.”

Marsha let out a breath and swatted him on the shoulder before they began their trek down to the cafeteria. She didn’t usually eat breakfast, but Jack liked to indulge in something a little bit more substantial than just caffeine. Marsha needed a morning tea with enough sugar to kickstart her day.

He held the door subtly when they got to the cafeteria, teasing her in some way or another as Marsha laughed in spite of herself. That laugh was a sound that Jack had come to depend on. And the two of them never said much, but this morning ritual – walk, flirt, breakfast – had become the heartbeat of Jack’s new life whether he’d admit that or not.

12:45pm

During the lunch hour, the cafeteria was far louder. People were halfway through their days, everyone had something new to report, and people were desperate for a little food and camaraderie before they had to clock back in.

At a familiar table in the corner sat some familiar faces. IT director Colin Chang was messing around with a tablet beside his old friend Sergeant Jason Becker who was doing his best to sneak a cigarette under the table. Head of biology Denise Miller was trying to stomach a cup of yogurt – her heavily pregnant state was not allowing her to enjoy many foods lately, and Marsha was working on a smoothie while listening to whatever story was being told this time.

Jack dropped himself into the empty seat beside her, draping a nonchalant arm across the back of her chair that everyone knew by now not to mention.

“What, you can’t leave the work behind for half an hour?” Jack teased towards Colin, who was hunched over his tablet.

Colin looked up sharply, but for some reason, his ire was not directed at Jack. Instead, he was staring daggers beside him.

“Oh, don’t ask,” Denise winced.

“Maybe I could if somebody at this table wasn’t chronically accident prone,” Colin hissed through gritted teeth.

Jack raised his eyebrows and cast a sidelong glance to his right. Marsha looked relatively remorseful, but also as though she was sick and tired of the teasing.

“What’d you do this time?” He quipped.

Crossing her arms, Marsha kept her head up. “Accidents do happen, you know,” she deflected.

Jason began to chuckle, but Jack only shook his head. "That didn't answer my question."

She had tripped over a power cord in the psychology lab earlier today and accidentally unplugged the tablet that she had been syncing with a bunch of unsaved coded data. Then, she had gone running to Colin begging that he fix it as if he was some kind of magician. The man grumbled, but he was doing his best.

2:20pm

 Snapping his fingers, Jack pointed at Dr. Grant from the casual position in the chair that he had been occupying. “Adjustable resistance bands,” he said, having a eureka moment.

Him and Dr. Grant had been down in the research lab bouncing ideas off of one another for the last fifteen minutes. Grant was tall and steadfast, switching between taking notes on a computer and scribbling them down on his clipboard, and Jack lounged in a nearby chair with his legs out.

“Have them adapt mid-use,” Jack continued, “something that pushes back harder the stronger the kid gets.”

Dr. Grant furrowed his brow and nodded, turning to the nearby whiteboard where he began to sketch a prototype, mumbling something about a biofeedback loop.

5:30pm

The shuttle returned to Area 52 every school day at 4pm sharp, unless one of the kids was hanging back due to extracurriculars. They were given twenty minutes to drop their stuff off, having a snack, change, and haul themselves down to the Training Centre.

While Jack would typically lead them through warm-ups, sparring sessions, agility drills, and endurance training, tonight they ran a simulation instead. The combat simulator had been adjusted for Phase Two. The paintballs were launched at higher speeds, from different turrets, and were meant to simulate real gunfire. The kids were given shields and weapons to work with, and were told to complete cooperation tasks before they could push the button that ended the simulation.

This was Jack’s territory, but Marsha always made the time for simulations. She liked to observe and take notes that would help add to next week’s training. She had already been upstairs in the observation chamber for the first ten minutes, while Jack was down on the floor explaining the drill and tossing out advice.

With a thumbs up from the commander himself, the technician Dick fired up the simulation and the kids got going as Jack trudged up the stairs. He saw a familiar figure sitting at the desk beside the intercom machine, scribbling something on her clipboard.

As Jack walked by, he placed a hand briefly on her shoulder, causing Marsha to glance backwards to find nobody as he had continued walking and was no on the other side of her, staring intensely down at the kids below with his arms crossed and his brow pensive.

Technically, Marsha should have been down there in training herself. She had revealed powers of her own, thus making her an official member of the Zenith Team. But it was agreed upon that she was not going to be a front member of that team. She was not paged out to calls unless it was absolutely necessary, as she had too big of a job here at Area 52 to do much training.

Instead, she was a sideline member. Behind the scenes. She trained the team, and she was called out for backup as needed. With an entire department to head, psychological trials to run, training to lead, and in-house patients to meet with, it simply wasn’t feasible to throw her into training of her own.

And while Jack would have loved to tease her as he ran drills just to taunt her, he was glad to have her standing behind the scenes with him. His time had passed – it was a new era. The kids were the heroes, even if he was the captain. Him and Marsha stood firm side by side on the sidelines as the new age dawned.

7:15pm

After dinner, the team found themselves in the lounge, as per usual.

At first, they thought that Marsha might not join them. She had been so late that she missed the ice cream sundaes. But she had a patient session run late this afternoon and paperwork to finish up on. She arrived just in time for the cutthroat game of Monopoly that they all settled in for.

Dylan and Summer were cuddled up on the loveseat – inseparable since they became an official item. Jack was hunched forwards on the sofa with little Cindy beside him, squinting at the cards that she pulled. Tucker was on the floor on one side of the coffee table, with Marsha mimicking his position mermaid-style on the other side. She was settled in with Jack directly behind her. Occasionally, he leaned forwards and rested his forearm on her shoulder, whispering something into her ear about how he could see her cards. When he really let himself relax, he would absentmindedly play with her hair.

Marsha did not know what this new dynamic was. They didn’t fight anymore. They bantered, they teased, they flirted. They were touchy. A hand on her lower back, hers brushing against his arm as they laughed. He held doors for her, visited her office as he pleased, hell, he even sent her the occasional email.

Things had changed between them, that much was obvious. Jack was open to things that previously, he would have run from. But he had not turned his whole life on his head. He was healthier, he was easier to be around, he wasn’t quite so laden with guilt, but he was still the same man that he had been back in Long Beach. Commitment was not his style. Not with somebody like her.

So, Marsha did not dare bring it up. She was happy in this little mediocre place of peace that they had found together. Desperately in love with him even though they were technically just coworkers. Just friends, but he kept her far closer than that. Even if this was purgatory, she was happy to be stuck here with him.

It would never really work, between them. Even she had to know that. They may have gotten along fine in these quiet, peaceful moments, but what about when real change came? What about when Jack realized that he didn’t want to play by Larraby’s rules anymore? What about when it came time to make a decision?

When it came down to it, loyalties had to be set aside. At her core, Marsha was still a woman who had spent her entire career upholding and climbing the broken system that she now existed within. Groomed into believing that the world at Area 52 is good and fair. Yet to experience enough suspicion to realize that she might just be on the wrong side of it all. And Jack? Well, he was the man that she loved, destined to bring an end to that entire structure.

It would never work. Not while Jack was still determined to believe that he was utterly unlovable, and Marsha loved him as easily as breathing in the air around her. It would never work.

And when he walked her back to her quarters every night, they would linger in the hopelessness of it all. The inability to step across that line and find true happiness. They would stop outside of her door. She would take her time with her keys. Jack would feel this innate desire to do whatever it took to keep her out there in that hallway, but never seemed to be able to say the words that would do the trick.

Every night, they would bid one another farewell with a small, knowing, disappointed smile. He would wait to hear the door click shut before he turned around and walked away. And when he left, he did so slowly. As though he was hoping that she would open it again.

Typically, Jack would retire for the evening, but he had caught wind of something today that hadn’t sat well with him. It was just a casual mention on Jason’s part, but Jack was now granted the knowledge that big changes were coming to Area 52. Larraby was bringing in quite the squad now that they were planning to house a Zenith Team indefinitely.

Luckily, Dr. Grant was still in one of the small staff rooms near the living quarters, working on a cup of decaf. Jack hovered at the far end of the room, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. For the first time since last week, he looked like a man carved from tension. Jaw tight, eyes pinned to the floor. Something haunting about him.

Dr. Grant was too preoccupied. The kids were too hopeful. Marsha was too damn happy to notice it. But there was something restless in the way that he shifted his weight. As if his body had finally caught wind of his mind’s temptation to run.

Jack had been happy, but he hadn’t been peaceful. There was a tugging in the back of his mind. A lingering whisper that reminded him of his circumstances here. Of the conversation that he had with Larraby last week. The demands that couldn’t be met. The safety concerns. And now this, the upgrades that had nothing to do with his team.

“I saw the requisition,” Jack muttered. “Extra security detail.”

Dr. Grant didn’t look up. “It’s routine,” he shrugged. “Every six months.”

Unconvinced, Jack lowered his voice. “Since when does a routine detail list live ammo and drone surveillance?” He recrossed his arms. “Signed off by Larraby, I might add.”

Giving up, Grant let out a heavy sigh and looked up.

“What are they preparing for this time?” Jack asked harshly.

Shrugging, Grant could understand where Jack was coming from. “Shouldn’t this place get a security upgrade?” He tried. “Especially with four kids running around?”

Jack shook his head. “I highly doubt the security is to protect them,” he muttered. “Just the opposite, am I right?”

Grant sighed again. “That’s above my pay grade,” he said honestly.

The place. It was trying to make soldiers out of children. It had turned them into assets, no matter who else tried to keep them human. And now they were scared of them. So, they were bringing in backup just to ensure that everyone minded their manners and stayed in line. Most of all him, he had to assume.

Taking in a breath, Jack walked over to the side of the room where a framed photograph of the original team hung on the wall. Grainy and weathered. Out of place in this new era. Jack’s heart still tightened upon seeing those faces from beyond the grave, but he no longer felt like their voices were screaming at him.

After what felt like forever, he finally spoke. “You ever wonder what we could’ve done if this place hadn’t chewed us up?”

“All the time,” Grant replied honestly.

Jack nodded. He didn’t need to hear anything else from Grant tonight. All his suspicions were true, and all his instincts were telling him to get the hell out of here before this place could catch fire. It was his team, but those kids would never really be his to protect. Not unless he had the power to override Larraby and the rest of the military goons here at the facility. And he couldn’t do that without rank.

It would be different if Jack hadn’t retired from the navy. If he was still a decorated captain with a rank of his own. Then, his word might mean a bit more. He might have a leg to stand on. But he didn’t. He was a mechanic.

And as he stared at that picture, Jack suffered a quiet kind of heartbreak that came from living too long in the truth. He knew then and there that it didn’t matter if he was having fun here, nor did it matter if he was happy. It didn’t matter if he cared about the kids, if he enjoyed having his old friends back, if he was falling in love with somebody good for him. None if it mattered.

He had to go.

He had to go before he wound up standing in another empty staff room looking at a picture of dead kids that he couldn’t save. Before he had to ask himself yet again what he could have done differently. Him leaving wouldn’t stop the military from exploiting four children, but it would at least stop him from being the one who couldn’t stop that from happening. He could get out now before his heart was broken in five different places that this time, couldn’t be repaired.

He had to go.

So, he broke curfew and went off in search of the kids. They deserved an explanation. A goodbye. And as luck would have it, they were too tired to fight back.

Jack explained that he couldn’t be here. That he had done his job and that they were ready to be a team without him, as planned. That the powers at be didn’t jive with him and it would be safer for everybody if he took off back to his little life in Long Beach. He was excited to watch them from afar and see just how great they could become. He promised to visit, and he lied.

And that was that. The last time he planned on ever seeing those four young faces. Tomorrow morning, they would be off at school, and he would shoulder a bag and get the hell out of here.

Friday, May 5th, 2006 – 8:15am

He wasn’t doing anything wrong.

That particular sentence was bouncing around his head this morning, sharing space with another phrase that he was doing his best to drill into himself.

It's just how you feel. It's not what you want.

Maybe between the two mantras, he could start to feel better about what he was about to do.

Blindsided at his workplace twenty years after the tragedy that stole four innocent lives - five if you count the fact that Jack all but stopped living too - and shot by a tranquilizer. Marched back to the place that haunted his worst nightmares with a gun at his back and threatened with jail time if he did not comply. Those were the conditions. He had to remind himself of that.

Nothing about that particular situation screamed, "I want to be here!" In fact, it might as well have been a hostage situation. And Jack Shepard was no friend to Stockholm Syndrome. He was aware that his shackles had come off and that the cage door was open. It had been for an entire work week now, actually.

It's almost like he just didn't want to alert anyone else to the fact that he knew he was free to go. Like if he made too sudden of a break for it, they might swoop in and stop him again. All he ever wanted was to finally be free from this place, and with his greatest dream on the line, things had to go just right. The proper paperwork, talking to the right people, making the terms and conditions clear and unbreachable. Then he could walk out of here a free man.

Would it feel shitty to leave the children while they're just getting started? Absolutely. Would he miss them and plenty of other people here that he had either gotten to know for the first time or rekindled familiar friendships with? There was no doubt in his mind. But none of that mattered. Because the pain of walking away would be overshadowed by all that he was saving. He was leaving while the kids were still breathing. Before tragedy could strike and ruin his life all over again. His brother was alive, his team was successful, he was free to go. Severing the ties now was the best wait to avoid any future pain.

And as for his friends, he had left them behind before. Maybe he would keep in touch. That was a lie to make himself feel like a better person. The only one of his friends whose phone number he had was Marsha, and it's only because he got it from the staff directory in case of an emergency. He wouldn't call any of the others, and they wouldn't call him. Keeping in touch with Marsha was a happy thought, but a pipe dream. Jack knew she wouldn't want anything to do with him after what he was about to do.

But he wasn't doing anything wrong. He had accomplished what he was here to do. He didn't break any laws, he trained the children to fight Concussion, and he even saved his long-lost brother in the process. That was all he had been here for on paper. Morally, maybe he wasn't making the right call, but that was far less of his concern. In terms of black and white, he was not doing anything wrong.

All week - actually, for the better part of the last month - he had been fighting off a certain feeling that lingered in his bones, reignited by this new era of the Zenith Program. Something was tugging at him. And he knew what it was. The desire to stay. To have something to live for again, to save the world, to distribute his knowledge onto the next generation. To stay and build a life here. A real life. And that was the most dangerous feeling Jack had ever experienced.

He knew that, and he clocked it all along. Hence why he now reminded himself that it was just a feeling. He had felt many things over the course of his life that he never let himself act upon, because it wasn't what he wanted. It was no different now. Sure, he had certain feelings that made him feel like he should stick around and make something of himself right here at Area 52, but what he wanted – what he had always wanted – was to have nothing to do with this program ever again. He wanted to leave once and for all, on his own terms. And what he wanted was far more important than whatever he was feeling.

He had reconciled it in his head. Jack had been nothing but clear in terms of his intentions. Even after he came around to the idea of working with the kids and training them properly, even after he let himself like them, he was careful never to admit that maybe this place wasn't so bad. That he might consider sticking around once his contract was up and it was all over. He never indicated that he was even considering such a thing. If anyone took his change of heart to mean that he was now willing to throw away his life and his plans to remain here at the place that had destroyed everything he ever loved, they were kidding themselves, and it wasn't his fault.

How could he just sit back and attempt to forget that he had spent the last two decades trying never to even think about this place and all that it had taken from him? How could he spend so much energy running from his past only to roll over when it finally caught up to him? Surely, he had been so adamant for a good reason.

This was the problem with letting people in. He cursed himself for letting it happen despite knowing the consequences. Wasn't that why he didn't want to train the children? Because he did not want to care about them. But, lo and behold, certain people around here had weaseled their way under his skin at the first crack in his armour. That was the only reason that it was going to be tough to walk away from this. But that was also the reason that he had to. In all honesty, there were certain names and faces that Jack was doing his level best to keep out of his head. Even in his subconscious, they might convince him to stay.

Who did he think he was? Training these kids and encouraging them to become a family as if he knew anything about that word? As if he had not spent the better part of his life avoiding genuine human connection, love, and responsibility in no particular order. It was a complete joke that he had been brought in to lead them to greatness. And he couldn't keep up the act forever. Yet another reason why it was better for him to cut bait and take off now before he found himself in too deep. That's when he wound up hurting people.

Larraby had told him to stay the week, so he did. Unsure what he was going to do, Jack knew that he wanted to leave - or at least, he should have wanted to - but he had developed certain feelings for certain people around here. He realized that it was nice to feel something other than guilt and apathy. He wanted to be a part of something good, he wanted people to believe in him, and he wanted to believe in something in return. But he was swimming with sharks, and still bleeding from the gaping wound that had never healed properly back in 1986. He couldn't stay.

Still, he had gone back and forth about a thousand and one times in his head. Stay and suffer the consequences? Enjoy the bliss but risk losing it all and feeling more pain than ever before? Or leave and have it sting for a bit but retreat back to the safety of having nobody and nothing to lose? There were benefits to both, but Jack knew there was no point in brainstorming. He had made his mind up before he ever sent foot back in this place.

As good as things might have seemed with Dr. Grant back on his side, Marsha in his corner, and a promising group of kids, Jack knew that it was only a matter of time before Larraby pulled his tail out from between his legs and started to abuse his power again. It was already happening. Just like the old general and lieutenant did back in the golden days. The abuse of power that killed his team had every opportunity to do the same to his new team.

The only way that it would ever work would be if Jack managed to get the kids out of here and start something that was all his own. And that would take money, planning, organization, commitment, and a hell of a lot of responsibility. He had none of those things. Half a million dollars didn't get nearly far enough, and comic book royalties were only bringing in so much. Save for that fresh new deposit, Jack's bank account looked a lot like any blue-collar business owner's on the sleepy side of the city did.

He knew what had to happen. He would have to go public with his team and start bringing in some real funds with red carpet events, interview exclusives, and magazine articles. Maybe even press tours and Q and A panels. Now that would have them raking in the dough, and it might allow him to purchase some place and a team of employees independent from the government.

But he couldn't see himself committing to such a pursuit. He would get lazy and comfortable and refuse to take the responsibility for it, so it would never happen. That was why this team was better off without him, and therefore he shouldn't feel guilty for leaving them behind.

Call him what you like, but at least Jack was a man who thought of everything. And for a moment, he let himself think about what it would be like if he stayed. If he told the kids that he had only been joking and then pretended everything was fine and that he was the big hero that they all thought he was. If he stayed right here just to live in the little moments of happiness forever. It sounded almost nice, but it was all a lie.

Because he hadn't changed. He was not responsible or selfless or valiant. Sure, he was a hero who tended to do the right thing in the end, but that was all it took to sell comic books. He was also a selfish, arrogant man with a dirty mind and no sense of responsibility. The apathy, the sarcasm, the dry sense of humour, the nihilism – they were all qualities that made him who he was. Caring for four children didn't change that. It did not take those qualities away from him. They would likely be with him forever. And eventually, everyone here would see through the lie. Straight through to the bitterness inside.

Because he was a crappy actor and an even worse liar, though he'd never admit it. He might have had a stellar poker face in some situations, but it would crack if the right person looked hard enough. He could stand here and lie to everyone day in and day out. That wasn't fair to the kids who were too young to understand the truth, and he didn't even want to bother trying to lie to his co-trainer, who always seemed to see right through him anyways.

He just couldn't handle living in a world where he let himself love people and make plans for the future only to know that at any point in time, it could all come crashing down around him. He would never know peace if he condemned himself to such a life. So, he refused to do it.

And in the end, Jack told himself that he had done what he came here to do. First and foremost, he did what Larraby brought him here to do. Mission successful. Now, he was going to do what he came to - leave. With no strings attached. To walk through those big secret doors, breathe in the dusty Death Valley air and finally taste true freedom.

He wasn’t doing anything wrong.

He told himself that he was going to leave the team in Dylan's capable hands. The boy was always meant to take over as commander once Jack was ready to fully retire. Dylan could lead them, Marsha could continue training and advocating, Dr. Gant would be at their beck and call. Larraby would shove them into the spotlight, and they would all become disgustingly rich and overwhelmingly famous. And all the while, Jack would stay out of it. Back in Long Beach keeping to himself, far away from the prying eyes and the trappings of fame and the risk of having so much to lose.

He could watch it all from the staticky television in the break room of his shop and say things like "I knew them when." None of the other guys at the garage would believe him, but it wouldn't matter.

And when they were struck down in their prime by undefeatable forces or when Marsha wasn't enough to keep Larraby's greed at bay and he pumped them full of radiation, Jack would not have to deal with the fallout. By then, his heart would have forgotten what it was like to ever have any of them.

If he was smart, he would have reflected on that notion. Asked himself if over the years, he had forgotten what it was like to feel his brother's hand on his shoulder. To laugh with Henry or hear Rebecca's laugh. To take his love, Alex, into his arms. No, he hadn't forgotten. He couldn't quite feel it when he thought about it – it felt more like something that had occurred in a dream – but he hadn't forgotten. Maybe if Jack had considered that, he might have made a different choice.

Last night had been hard, saying goodbye, though it did not look it. Catching the children with only a few minutes left before their mandated bedtime meant that there was no time to argue. They all knew that. It was either argue, or say goodbye, no room for both. It also gave them no opportunity to run off and tell someone. If either Grant or Holloway caught wind of what he was planning to do, they would have hunted him down and tried to perform some kind of intervention that might just work.

Jack walked away knowing that he had made the right decision. He liked those kids, he called them a family, he would do just about anything for them, but he didn't love them. Not the way that a father might love their children. He would if he spent any more time around them. That's how he knew he was making the right call.

Take off before the goodbye had to be tearful. Before Dylan and Summer's relationship went up in flames and he had to navigate the aftermath, before Tucker became a teenager and started whining about going to parties and rebelling, before Cindy got any taller and it made Jack want to stop time and keep her a little girl forever. He wasn't cut out for fatherhood, so he had to get the hell out of here before he became one against his will.

It would have been a lot easier if he hadn’t seen Marsha after it all. She was across the hallway stuck in conversation with Lieutenant George Mathers, a yappy little man hardly taller than she was who always had something to say. Nice enough and always polite, just like Masha. Which is why she so often stood there silently and let him talk her ear off. She caught Jack's eye from across the hall, and he only hoped that she was too far away to see everything on his face.

He didn't linger long enough to wait for George to be finished. He couldn't. It was funny for him to think that just hours ago, his hands were tangled up in her hair as he played with the curls over her shoulder.

The goal was to keep his distance, to avoid her, to likely never see her again. He couldn't have that fight with her, because he wasn't sure that he would win. But much like he had made his peace with the children, he was quite positive that leaving her now was the right call.

Before they could blur the lines between colleagues and partners. Between friends and something more. Hell, who was he kidding? The lines were already blurry, that's what he liked about her. They only ever pretended to draw lines in the first place. She was a beautiful distraction, a lovely person to talk to, and likely the warmest soul that he had ever encountered. And that posed one very large problem for him. Stick around any longer and he would fall in love with her.

The fact that he had never even been remotely interested in somebody like her before told him one thing – the love would be real. The kind that makes even the most philandering of men cast aside their womanizing ways and settle down. Throw it all away for the rest of his life. He already felt the whisperings of it. A deep, meaningful connection. Nobody had ever made him feel the way that she did.

So, it was better to get out now before he fell in love. Before she could fall in love – or more in love, perhaps – and he had to break her heart. Before the inevitable fighting, the hard feelings, the weeds of sex, and the commitment issues could take him out at the knees. Before he fell so deeply in love and spent the rest of his life worrying that he was going to lose it all.

It’s only how you feel, it isn’t what you want.

Jack had no way of knowing it when he woke up, but it was a miserable day outside. He would learn that in a few hours. While outside in the middle of the Death Valley dessert, it was typically hot and sunny without a cloud in the sky, today it was storming. Cracks of lightning and booming thunder couldn’t be heard in the facility, but it made for a sky as dark as night, and plenty of treacherous winds.

Ironically enough, that was precisely how Jack had woken up feeling inside. But he couldn’t acknowledge that now. So instead, he brushed his teeth, he showered, he put on some clothes that weren’t military, and he packed his few belongings into a bag that he slung over his shoulder and clicked his pager so that Dr. Grant would meet him in one of the free conference rooms as soon as possible. He wanted this done quickly and quietly.

The kids were off at school, everyone else was busy clocking in for the day, he had made his peace with it all. As soon as he got those papers signed, there would be nothing left standing in his way.

A clever lie, he was telling himself. Nothing standing in his way. He had a few obstacles still that he was going out of his way to ignore. But one was far more inexcusable than the others.

Jack realized that something felt off as he walked to the conference room and was quickly reminded of that very obstacle when he realized that it was the first time all week that he hadn’t met Marsha at her door and walked her to breakfast.

Shit, he thought to himself with a wince. She would know that something was up. Especially after he didn’t stick around and bug her when they made eye contact in the hallway last night. Jack just hoped that she didn’t track him down before he could get the hell out of here.

Because she had a few tricks up her sleeve that might just take him down. He wondered if it would be like some kind of bad movie. She would fall at his feet and beg him to stay by proclaiming her undying love for him at the eleventh hour like a headshot in the dark. He imagined a single tear falling down her cheek, the light shining just right, illuminating her eyes and casting hypnotic shadows. He was just glad that the real world did not operate that way.

Even he knew that she wouldn’t reduce herself to such a caricature of a Jane Austen plot. But she could still stand in his way by doing one simple thing. Something that she had done time and time again. By calling his bluff.

As he walked briskly to the conference room, Jack told himself that the feeling in the pit of his stomach was excitement rather than dread. Anticipation for finally getting to sever his ties with Area 52 and get out of here for good. He even forced a cheeky grin onto his face.

Larraby and Grant met him in the conference room. The general seemed grumpy and eager to get this over with, but Grant was far more resigned. There was a mountain of paperwork and by the end of the fifteen-minute meeting, Jack’s wrist hurt from signing his name over and over again, but all necessary documents were signed.

He assigned whatever jurisdiction he once had over the team to Marsha Holloway, and ensured that Grant’s name was in there too. He signed NDAs and contract releases. He took his name off the project entirely, as if it had never been attached to it at all. And every signature felt like an extra weight off his shoulders. Like slowly cracking a window open in a stuffy room.

It felt so good that he could hardly even hear that obnoxious voice in the back of his mind. The one that called him a coward and a lying traitor. In fact, he recognized that voice. It wasn’t his. It was female and familiar, though weeks ago it would have sounded like a stranger.

Larraby left without a parting word as soon as the deal was sealed, leaving the two old friends in a heavy silence. Quickly, Jack rose from his seat, trying not to make a big deal out of anything. The longer he was delayed, the higher the risk of running into that voice in his head in person.

Following suit, the older man stood with a sigh, shaking his head as he peered at Jack with a watchful eye.

            “So, there’s nothing, hey?” Grant asked solemnly.

            Instantly, Jack narrowed his eyes, aggravation rising within him.

            “Nothing what?” He said quickly.

            “Nothing that’s going to change your mind,” Grant began, and Jack looked away with a grimace following his words. “Nothing that’s going to keep you here?”

A clench of his jaw prepared Jack for this conversation.

            “Papers are signed, Grant.”

A moment of silence lingered between the two friends. Grant had never been one for Hail Marys, but he had to try.

“Would you stay if she asked you to?”

The two men’s eyes snapped together in cold accusation on both parts as soon as the words left Grant’s mouth. If this was the end, Jack would have to be prepared to hear the words that he never wanted to. His face twisted sourly, and here came that poker face.

            “Who?” Jack knew full well who Grant was referring to, and almost regretted egging him on at all rather than turning himself around and walking out the door before either of them could say any more on the topic.

Technically, he had every right to do so, he was a free man. Officially.

            “You know who,” Grant continued, softer now as if to demand that Jack cut the bullshit and face reality.

            “Grant, I’ve got to get out of this place,” Jack’s face remained stony as he completely bypassed the question posed of him, but the tone of his voice told Grant that he was being genuine. “The plan was always for me to leave once everything was all sorted out.” He tried to keep his hands busy by rolling up the sleeves of the button-down flannel he was wearing. “I’m not sticking around for anything, makes no difference who’s asking.”

            Grant nearly chuckled, he’d forgotten that Jack had two decades of practice in the art of apathy saved up for this very moment.

            “You’re really willing to leave them all behind here to finish what you started?”

            Jack did not like the accusation in the old man’s voice. He hadn’t asked for any of this, the only thing that the children were about to suffer were the consequences that Area 52 and their insipid Zenith Program had set them up for.

            “Isn’t that kind of the whole point of your little project? Bring me back, do some training, and have them take my place?” Jack began, his voice hardening as he spoke. “I wanted to be done with this place twenty years ago, it’s about damn time I’m finally given some real freedom, don’t you think?”

            Lowering his brow in thought, Grant wondered if anyone had even thought to ask Jack to stay, yet. The kids surely didn’t know how to keep him here, Larraby would rather die before asking Jack to stay for the sake of his military base, and Marsha’s pride was likely preventing her from the same thing. Perhaps Jack didn’t realize that staying was even an option.

            “You know you could stay, though,” Grant began, “if you wanted to. Even after the papers have been signed.”

            Jack looked up and narrowed his eyes. “Are you not hearing me?” He scoffed, “I can’t wait to never have to think about this place or anything that happened here ever again.”

            Grant took in a deep breath and looked around the room for a silver lining. “Well, I suppose you can always come back and visit,” he landed on.

            “No, once I go, I’m gone,” Jack stated firmly, standing up straighter. “I’ve said it before but this time I really mean it. Once I walk out those doors, it’ll be the last time.”

            “Really?” Grant couldn’t understand his insistent desire to rid himself of anything related to this facility. The facility that gave him both his start and a second chance.

            “Really.”

            “What about the kids?”

            Jack rolled his eyes. He had no more obligation to those kids than their schoolteachers did. “I’m not their father,” he began, raising an eyebrow. “I did what you wanted, I trained them, I got them all ready to go, they’re good. You’ve seen what they can do. They don’t need me anymore, I’m good to go.”

            Grant peered at him, wondering how the carefree young man that he once knew had managed to turn himself to stone. “They’re good because if you, Jack,” Grant reminded him. “Without your training, who’s to say how good they are.”

Jack didn’t want to hear any of it. Lord knows he had already thought of it all. Grant sounded like his mother in this moment, and it made him want to groan.

“Listen,” he said, shouldering his bag, “we had some good times here, why can’t we leave it at that?” Jack began. “As fun as it might’ve been, none of it’s ever gonna be good enough to keep me around,” he shrugged out the end of his sentence before time came to a complete stop.

The voice in his head had finally shut up. That only ever meant one of two things. That he was making the right call, or that he was about to get a glimpse of the live show. Sure enough, he heard the sound of a familiar laugh coming from out in the hallway. It rang out through the muffled silence like a bell chiming in a silent night. Both men arched an eyebrow in the direction of the door.

And she was right there standing sideways in the window, talking to some security official that was obviously cracking jokes this morning.

Grant – having now been able to put a face and a name to the laugh that had broke the silence – accepted this and turned back to Jack, intending to pick up where they had left off in their conversation. But the same could not be said for the younger man. He was still distracted.

Jack stared out at the woman that felt so familiar to him despite only knowing her for a few weeks. So familiar that she had become the voice in his head. He softened upon seeing that smile and the cute little way that her nose wrinkled when she did so. He’d miss that smile.

Damn, he cursed in his mind. This whole process would have been made a lot easier if she hadn’t looked quite so beautiful today. She had her hair down and was wearing it in curls, the few front pieces pinned back behind her head. No glasses, a darker shade of lipstick than usual, a pretty lavender blouse. It was almost like she knew what was meant to happen today, and she was already trying to make his job as difficult as humanly possible.

Finally tearing his eyes away from her long enough to catch an insinuating look coming from Dr. Grant, Jack stifled a sigh and braced himself yet again. Busted, he thought. He hadn’t meant for his stare to be quite so incriminating, but he’d always had a problem with subtlety wherever she was involved. Something he certainly would not miss once he finally bid this confining facility farewell for the last time.

“None of it, hey?” The scientist cocked his head in sarcastic understanding.

Even Grant knew that when the time really came, his old friend might have a very difficult time saying goodbye to the woman just yards away from them both. Perhaps her and Jack were always meant to be two people so close, and yet so far.

Jack opened his mouth to argue, but not a single word came out. Instead, he looked back out the window and stared her down once more. It looked like her conversation was nearly finished and that meant he was about to have to do the hardest thing he might ever have to do. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. Hence why the whole plan this morning had been to successfully carry out an Irish goodbye and live the rest of his days regretting it. Goddammit if fate was not a cruel master.

Knowing that there was nothing more he could do, Grant was well aware that he was about to pass the torch and the responsibility over to Marsha, who was far more capable. With a heavy sigh, he placed a warm but disappointed hand on Jack’s shoulder with a nod of acceptance.

And it was during this nonverbal farewell that neither heard the door open. Two and two was put together very quickly. Jack not showing up at her door, his strange behaviour last night in the hallway, Larraby brushing past her just a few minutes ago as if she had personally offended him, and now this particular scene. A goodbye if ever she had seen one.

She knew that Jack had been paid out last weekend, and had been keeping a cautious eye on him ever since. But she swore she would have noticed it if he showed any signs of leaving. She should have noticed it. Instead, she let herself be so stupidly happy. And alas, here came the consequences.

Marsha stood in the entrance, holding the door as her heart nearly fell right out of her chest.

“It was good to have you back,” Grant muttered before looking up in half-surprise to see Marsha standing a couple feet into the room, with a fire burning behind her eyes.

It didn’t take but a few seconds for Dr. Grant to remove himself from what was bound to be a tense situation before it could become dire. And between the two of them, rooms could easily be lit on fire. Where Jack was a pooling puddle of slimy gasoline, Marsha was always lighting matches. And where Jack was a trail of tempting gunpowder, she was a one-off spark.

Jack gritted his teeth and shoved his hands into his pockets, hardly bothering to change his position and posture. If he thought that a conversation regarding his departure with Dr. Grant was something he did not want to do, standing his ground while Marsha dressed him down was infinitely worse. She was not as good at hiding the pain behind her eyes.

Even so, Jack tried to pretend he wasn’t slightly excited to get one last fight in before he left. Perhaps leaving on bad terms with her would make his next move ten times easier, he nearly welcomed it. This was the opportunity to become the bad guy. Jack happened to think that would make it easier on the both of them. She could hate him, and he could hate her for expressing it. That was far better than parting ways longing for each other.

She was always expecting so much better from him. To see him here with a bag over his shoulder and his casual clothes on, clearly on the verge of departure, changed everything. It blew the stakes right through the roof. Forced Marsha to go from zero to one hundred in a matter of seconds.

Her mind was working a mile a minute as she watched Jack shift towards her from across the room. She should have taken the rumours more seriously. She should have seen this coming and prepared some kind of a speech, or showed up this morning more debate ready. At the very least, she could have come to terms with the fact that he was leaving and worked towards being okay with that so that they could part ways on good terms without a fight.

But she was blindsided this morning. And she stood precisely where she did not want to be – severely unprepared. Given the circumstances, god only knew what might come out of her mouth.

Those that knew her called Marsha Hurricane Holloway for good reason. On the surface, it was because of her accident-prone ways that always seemed to bring a sense of physical chaos wherever she went. But more personally, it was the only way to describe what went on inside of her.

Whenever she felt something big, it was as if there was a strong hurricane raging inside her heart and soul. Given the storm inside, it was almost surprising to see that her hair hadn’t picked up in the wind.

And that was where the two of them differed greatly. Where Jack never really let himself feel much of anything, Marsha managed to feel just about everything, all at once.

There was no hiding what he was up to, it was as clear as day. Even somebody as oblivious as Marsha Holloway had to see that he currently had one foot out the door. The crushed determination on her face told him that yes, she understood what was happening. And the look in her eyes told him that she was prepared to enter the fight of her life. He was almost afraid.

Putting it all together, Marsha realized that he was obviously hoping to leave without running into her. What a coward. Despite his cool demeaner – acting as though he had planned for this – Marsha could see the look in his eyes. Like a deer in the headlights. Her being here in the room was unplanned and it was now forcing his hand.

When his family came to take Connor home, Susan and Georgia had made a stop in Long Beach so that they could drive Jack’s truck over. Right now, he wanted to get to the parkade where he knew that his trusty old Ford was waiting for him, like the noble steed on which he was going to make his grand escape.

He could handle the accusations. The hatred, the anger, the fighting. And Jack was just hoping that was all he was going to get out of her this morning. What he couldn’t handle was hurt. Pain. Sadness. And right now, he found himself at a complete loss, not knowing what to expect. For if he saw a flicker of hurt cross Marsha’s tragic face, it might just have him melting into a puddle that would never be drained from the floors of Area 52. The place that he so desperately wanted to be rid of. Her hurt would keep him here forever, against his will.

She had a scary amount of power over him, and she didn’t even know it. Hardly anything could have Jack throwing his entire plan away, but she had something. Something like gold. Or perhaps Kryptonite was a better word for it. A Hail Mary of her own, an ace up her sleeve. A grand finale.

That was why Jack didn’t want to be trapped in this room with her, nor even see her before he left. Because she had the one thing that would keep him here. The three little words. And if she chose to use those words against him during his escape plan, it would take him out at the knees. He’d stay forever.

This was the deadliest battle between life and death that he would ever have to fight, and Marsha didn’t even realize that they were at war.

There was no time for false pretenses. He was leaving and she knew it. Why bother dancing around any of it?

Deciding to fate it all head on, Jack squared his body to her and braced himself for the fight. Knowing her, this battle would probably draw some blood and maybe even burn a bridge or two. She was just so good at fighting. He had to wonder where she had learned it.

Marsha herself was rather surprised in this moment that Jack was not actively trying to flee her very presence. Knowing him, he should be pushing past her out of the room, demanding that if she wanted to fight, she’d better keep up. Instead, he stood there with his hands on his hips, staring her down, almost as though he was challenging her. Craving a blood bath.

She wanted to curl up in a ball and cry already, knowing the inevitable outcome and hurt beyond belief that they had gotten to this point, but Marsha would be damned before she backed down from this particular fight. The fight of her life. Nothing before ever mattered as much.

So, she put the very last of her courage into a deep breath as fury began to practically seep from her pores. Jack took note of the sudden flush on her cheeks and the flash of anger in her eyes and knew that he was in trouble this time. He might have been prepared to bring the thunder, but she was going to strike him with lightning.

She dropped her arms to the side and both metaphorical gloves fell off her hands as she did so. “So, that’s it?” She demanded, wasting no time. “You’re leaving?”

Her voice was frighteningly level, and Jack’s blood ran cold as a result. He was familiar with the look in her eyes but not this tone of her voice. He knew that when fury turned to calm, there would be hell to pay. She was regulating herself before snapping.

He sighed heavily and clenched his eyes shut for a moment, holding up a hand as if to physically stop the words from falling from her lips. As if she was inconveniencing him with her care for the situation. He’d had a headache all night and all morning, he hadn’t gotten his coffee, and he was running late. And now, she was about to get on his very last nerve.

“Could we not do this, Holloway?”

Jack was beginning to grow very angry at the universe for putting her here in this room at the wrong time.

“I don’t have the energy for you right now.”

It was harsh and he knew it, but Jack had steeled himself the moment that he realized she’d entered the room. He knew that she was going to try to dig her way under his skin and warp his sense of reality, twisting around what he really wanted. She’d always been good at that. Making him question everything he ever thought he knew.

The choice of her last name had been quite intentional. Jack had already begun to use the distancing language as a means to truly convince himself that they were nothing more than professional acquaintances, and therefore she shouldn’t pose any kind of threat to his resolve. The psychologist within her clocked the language and wondered such a thing, but Marsha certainly did not have time to dissect it. She crossed her arms, blinking her eyes calmly as her anger simmered.

It was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of her sudden silence and walk right around her out the door. To be gone from this hellscape while her tongue was bitten, awaiting an answer. But he just couldn’t help himself. Jack wanted to see this out. Call it a sick sense of morbid curiosity.

He joined her in the silence, ensuring to keep a couple yards of distance between them. She was far more dangerous close up. Then, he cast his arms out tiresomely, as if asking her to hit him with something.

“I don’t know how much energy explaining yourself requires,” she snapped, but her face remained impressively void of the dozens of different emotions that she was currently experiencing.

If there was one thing that Marsha Holloway had perfected, it was the art of compartmentalization.

From across the room, Jack shook his head and shrugged with a look of impatience on his weathered face. He should have known that leaving would not come without consequences, nothing came easy around here.

He supposed that this might be his last and final test, the one that would have him asking whether or not his freedom was really worth it. How badly did he want to cut loose from this place? He was about to find out.

“How surprised can you really be?” He tested the waters, biting back with venom saved away for when things really turned poisonous between them, as he was certain they would. “I’ve been pretty damn transparent about my intentions this whole time.”

Jack had to look at this encounter as a blessing in disguise. To go out in a blaze of glory, to part ways after spilling blood and having it turn bad, remembering one another only as villains and nothing more, it would ultimately make things easier in the aftermath. There would be nothing left here for either of them, nothing that could leave them pining or uncertain. No unfinished business.

Marsha narrowed her eyes and took one threatening step closer to him but still managed to maintain an icy distance. “Just because it’s not surprising doesn’t mean that I’m not disappointed.”

Jack had perfected the art of deflection and dodging real issues, and now he was being put to the ultimate test. He knew full well that Marsha was referring to how his actions were going to affect the team. The kids. But he was going to do his best to dissuade her from having this fight.

"You'll get over me," he deadpanned, rolling his eyes and brushing past her on the way out the door.

Marsha blinked in surprise and irritation. Jack flight or flight had clearly given in, and now he was on his way out before she even realized he was on the move. It was the feeling of him brushing past her shoulder that brought her to her senses.

She turned around just in time to see the door slam shut behind him. No way in hell did either of them think that she was going to let him leave it at that and walk away. She knew that he expected her to follow him, but let herself wonder for a moment what would happen if she didn't. She knew him and she liked to think that she knew how his mind work. She had reason to believe that after a minute or two, he would come bursting back through the doors demanding to know why she wasn't fighting.

But she had no time for experiments this morning. Not when her own fight or flight had also kicked into high gear. And while Jack was the self-proclaimed runner, she was the fighter. She stopped running a long time ago.

Shaking her head, she balled up her fists and followed him out the door, trailing him down the hall. Jack was quick on his feet, but if he really wanted to be rid of her, god knows he could have been. Marsha took that as yet another sign that he secretly wanted to have this fight. He wanted her to change his mind.

"This has nothing to do with me, Jack, and you know it," her accusatory voice was over his shoulder now, and Jack let out a sigh when he realized that he had been caught up to.

Giving in, he nearly groaned as he straightened his shoulders and turned around to face her. Thankfully, he hadn't seen any of that dreaded hurt cross her face yet. Plenty of anger and a good dose of rage, but no real pain.

So, they were doing this then. They were having the fight that he had been hoping to avoid. Jack gritted his teeth and steeled himself. Based on the look in both of their eyes, it became clear very quickly that neither one cared that they were about to cause a scene right there in the hallway. It was not the first time, but it might very well be the last.

He did her the favour of reading between the lines. "Those kids will be fine," he insisted as though it was ridiculous to suggest otherwise. "They were okay with it last night. They know there's no point in trying to change my mind now."

Jack turned around and picked up the face, leading them down the hallway and around a few corners as he spoke. Marsha trailed behind like a dog that had been kicked but just wouldn't run away.

She arched a brow upon noticing that he was doing his best to explain himself without saying much of anything at all. Marsha was about to bulldoze through his happy state of denial.

"You're their leader," she stated with a steel tone, hot on his heels. "You can't just up and walk away from them before you've even begun."

Jack's face twisted sourly. They had begun, alright. They began, they accomplished, they finished. It was a full circle story if ever he'd seen one.

A sneer rose to his lips as he thought to himself, watch me. Stopping in his tracks, Marsha was surprised by the sudden cessation of his footsteps and nearly crashed right into his back. She had the good sense to take one step backwards before Jack turned around slowly and reeled on her.

Neither had been paying much attention to their surroundings, but this particular hallway felt vaguely familiar. If either of them had a moment to calibrate themselves, they might have realized that they were standing right outside of Marsha's personal quarters. Suppose it was as fitting a location as any for their last fight.

Jack stared at her for half a second, hoping that she knew what she was doing. What she was getting herself into. She had better be damn ready for the explosion that was to follow. The blaze of glory. To have everything that she dished out thrown right back at her.

Her argument had been a weak one and they both knew that. Jack was entitled to the decision that he had made. But on that same train of thought, she was entitled to fight him every step of the way. Though, his was a professional entitlement while hers was entirely personal. They had both earned this fight in different ways.

As dangerous as it was to their surroundings, Jack was just plain pissed off now. Angry that his plans had been foiled, angry that he was standing hre bickering with her when he should have been hitting the open road, angry that this was the last time he might ever get to see that fire in her blue eyes.

"Last time I checked," he snapped, leaning down to meet her eyes in a tactic of condescension, "I wasn't obligated to stick around. I did my time here. Twice,  if I remember correctly."

There was a pause that came after that statement. Jack watched as something registered within his sparring partner and his entire body tensed when he saw the look on her face tiptoeing precariously towards that hurt that he really did not want to have to see today. It had stung, he could see that much, but it didn't particularly hurt yet. Lucky for him.

The problem for Marsha in this moment was that she knew that he was lashing out and trying to wound her in order to make leaving easier. She knew that he was pushing her away using whatever mans necessary. But she did not know whether or not that meant there was any truth to his statements. In fact, his words were probably riddled with truth. Hence the way that they stung like a slap in the face.

She nodded once, as if letting his words sink in whether she believed them or not. "That's really all this ever was for you?" Marsha pried, her eyes boring into him, demanding the truth. "An obligation?"

Jack could hardly believe his ears. "Uh, yeah?" He exclaimed like it should have been incredibly obvious.

Hadn't he been saying that this whole time? Hadn't he made it clear that if the gun was not at his back - and a federal prison sentence calling his name - he would have been out of here before anyone could even realize he had taken off.

Jack was reminded yet again that Marsha Holloway lives in a world of her own. High up in the clouds, where everyone does whatever she wants and always makes the right decision for other people. Fantasyland. He was about to reach up through those clouds, grab her by the ankles, and yank her back down to the real world with the rest of them.

"You lot held me here against my will," he reminded her, staring coldly. "I did my job, I got paid, I get my freedom back. That was the deal," he was gesturing with one hand now, talking down to her like she was beneath him.

To Marsha's credit, she tried her hardest not to let him get under her skin. She kept her chin up and her eyes hard even as he belittled her.

Jack stood straight. "It's really not that difficult to understand," he said flippantly, just to wound her, "even you should be able to wrap your head around it."

Now, Marsha was offended. She knew that she was an intelligent woman, there was never any doubt about that. Jack knew it as well as anyone else. But she also knew that he thought her to be naive. Oblivious, clueless, hopeless. And now, it was those particular qualities that he was referencing against her.

Marsha had been facing people who ridiculed her and refused to take her seriously her entire career. That came hand-in-hand with being a woman in any workforce. In the world, really. She knew that Jack wasn't saying any of It to be genuinely demeaning, but instead as a means to attack her personally. To prove to her that he was just as bad as everyone said he was, to make this just a little bit easier. He was being his own fall guy.

As she went quiet again, jack had to wonder if he was still grateful not to find any hurt on her face. No, she was vengeful now, plain and simple.

Marsha's face went unreadable. "Real freedom means having nothing to lose," she said firmly, echoing his own words from the first day they'd met.

Curse that near-photographic memory of hers. She might remember every word and moment that ever passed between her and Jack well enough to use his own words against him whenever possible, but she would also be hexed by the curse of memory. If he succeeded and walked away now, she would be stuck back here in these precious three weeks in March forever. Trapped.

"What?"

"You said that to me once," she reminded him coldly. "That having nothing to lose was what you wanted more than anything else."

Jack remembered now. After an excruciatingly long day, they'd had their first real spat in one of the staff rooms. Their relationship had been a whirlwind even on that first day. From seeing her outside in the green dress and convincing himself that he hadn't fallen in love at first sight, to being reintroduced at Area 52 and realizing that she was likely the most irritating person he'd ever met. Meeting the children together, bickering in the hallway, attending an evening meeting. Then, of course, running into each other close to midnight, dropping the gloves, and having it out.

He had indeed told her that he craved freedom, and defined it as having nothing to lose. He still believed that. And he still wanted that. Even if she had disagreed with his description.

"Do you really think that if you walk out of here now and try to forget about it all, you'll really have nothing left to lose?" She asked rhetorically, turning the tables and acting as though she was the one who could see reality while he lived in delusion. 

Jack stood his ground. Marsha was positively reeling on him now, and she had even taken a rather threatening step in his direction which he did not cower away from. 

She gestured purposefully behind herself as if to indicated the general direction of the children, who were long gone to school by now. "They'll still exist, Jack," she reminded him sharply. "You will be stuck living with the memory of everything that you had here, and everything that you lost. And this time, it won't be anyone's fault but your own."

He felt a flash of anger strike his heart then. Because she was absolutely right. He may have carried the guilt and the shame of losing his team, but she had actually helped him realize that it had never been his fault. That he had never been to blame. But he was indeed choosing to lose this one. They weren't being taken from him, they weren't being slaughtered, he was simply walking away. It would be entirely his fault.

Marsha clocked his fury, but did not give him the chance to retaliate.

"And good luck avoiding them when the press is about to have them plastered over every billboard in America," she reminded him of their future plans to go public with the team. "You can pretend all you want, Jack - god knows it's what you're good at - but you'll still care. That doesn't just go away," she continued, overtly angry at this point. "As long as you have a working memory, you'll never get true freedom again."

She wasn't quite hitting below the belt, but she wasn't taking it easy on him either. She had successfully taken away the one thing that she knew he wanted more than anything else in the world. Tarnished it. Stained it. Made it less valuable than he previously thought it was. And he wouldn't forgive her for it.

Her unleashed fury had sparked something within Jack. Something that recently, only she had been able to ignite. And once that spark caught, it tended to blaze like a wildfire. Making him feel so undeniably alive. His mind filtered through various defense mechanisms before he landed on his favourite.

Jack knew that it was unfair. She was owed this fight, and he was doing the wrong thing. He knew that, he just didn't care. And quite frankly, he had never really had anything he loved that he didn't kick just for the sake of seeing if it would come back. And this particular creature? Well he could never seem to kick her far enough. 

He didn't really want to remember her that way. Like a beaten dog, whimpering with its tail between its legs. He didn't want to remember her wounded and docile. But it was far better than being plagued with the memory of her smile. The sound of her laughter. The way that her nose wrinkled when she stifled a grin. Better than remembering the smell of her perfume, the way that her hands felt, a kiss upon his cheek. It was better to remember her unpleasantly

He rolled his eyes tiresomely. "I think you've overestimating my feelings, here," he sighed.

No, Marsha was not going to let him make her feel like she was crazy for thinking that he had changed. That the kids had changed him. That he had opened his heart and grown for the better. She knew that this was going to haunt him, and she wasn't about to bite her tongue now.

However, there was something that rang true about her. Give her an inch and she'll take the whole mile. Show the faintest trace of an emotion and she'll call it a breakthrough. Because that's just what she had always done. She saw the best and clung to it until her knuckles turned white and her palms bled. She never let go of anything. Yet, everything that had ever left her was scarred by claw marks.

She shook her head, refusing to accept any of it. "You can pretend to be some unfeeling robot all you want," she crossed her arms stubbornly, "but we both know that's not realistic." She lowered her voice to a more controlled, factual level just so that he did not accuse her of hysterics. 

Clenching his teeth, Jack already knew that he couldn't exactly hide anything from someone who already saw right through him. But he could damn well deny it until the cows came home.

This battle was nothing new. In fact, their arguments tended to follow the same formula every time. Sharp comments and bitter words would kick them off, before hostility launched them into a battle of stubbornness. They were too evenly matched, so Marsha typically resorted to getting factual, while Jack got personal. They would build up and crescendo into an explosion where true feelings and tension abound, often something was said that could not be taken back. They would realize that they were being inappropriate and one of them - usually Marsha - would lower their voice and grow soft.

That was the part that Jack hated the most. When she softened and revealed that she was only ever fighting because she cared. That was the part that made him feel simultaneously all warm inside, and like a piece of shit. The part that reminded him that he was a disaster and a villain and didn't deserve to know this woman, let alone be on the receiving end of her arguments.

He only hoped that they didn't get to that point today, for it might just break him.

With this in mind, Jack knew that he could not relent now. "And you're even more naive than I thought you were if you think for a second that I'm just going to up and leave my entire life behind just to stay here in this hellhole."

"What life?" She counterattacked before the sentence had even left his mouth. "You had no life before you showed up here!"

"You don't know the first thing about me!" They were blatantly shouting now. "What the hell do you know about my life outside of this place?"

Marsha's face soured. They had only really known each other for a few weeks, but that was all it took. She was perceptive and he was an open book. She knew far more about him than he would like to admit.

"I'm not playing this game with you, Jack," she shook her head, crossing her arms tighter. "You know that this is the wrong thing to do."

Anger flashed across his face and in an instant, his volume was back up. "They'll be just fine without me!" He insisted harshly. "You saw them, they're field ready. That was my job, and I did it. You don't need me here!"

Marsha shook her head yet again. From an outsider's perspective, they both appeared to be in denial. Maybe they were.

"Them being able to survive without you doesn't mean that they'd be better off for it," she reminded him, hissing through her teeth as she spoke but refusing to match his volume. "Contrary to what you might think, there is more to this world than just surviving!"

"Oh, save me the all you need is love speech, Holloway," he rolled his eyes aggressively, "I'm not buying it."

He tried to walk away from her then, but she was too quick. She got ahead of him before he could even take a second step.

"They may be vaguely trained for combat, but they're just kids, Jack," she was pleading with him now. "They've only been out on the field a handful of times, and it's no secret that they still rely on your guidance when they're out there." Jack looked away. "They aren't ready to be a team without a leader," she insisted, placing her hands firmly on her hips. "Without somebody who fights for them."

Jack lowered his eyes slowly to look at her, wondering if she realized what she'd just said. Unwittingly, Marsha had just served herself up on a silver platter. She'd handed him his next argument. Jack allowed a facetious smirk to grace his face as he reached out and took the upper hand like it was the easiest thing in the world.

"So, why don't you do it?" He pointed an accusatory finger in Marsha's direction, sending her flinching backwards slightly.

When it came to a person who fought for the kids, that had always been her. Hell, she was doing it right now. She certainly didn't need him to do it when she had it covered so thoroughly.

"If you're so goddamn keen on staying here and playing house, you lead them," he jutted his finger towards her once more before dropping his hand. "You've got the powers, you've already been training them, god knows you fight for them, you're a more qualified candidate for the job than I ever was. You do it."

It wasn't a compliment. It was a transferring of responsibility. One that she had not asked for. He never really asked for it either, but he had agreed to captain that team decades ago. Promises didn't get written of just because they were made a long time ago.

Sure, on paper, Marsha would made a decent leader. She knew the kids' psychological profiles and personalities inside and out, and she did indeed have powers, but that was all. She didn't know the first thing about field combat. Hence why they had all come to the agreement that she would not be a frontline member of the team at all. It was Jack who had the real hands-on experience.

With a roll of her eyes, Marsha folded her arms across her chest. "We both know that's not true," she muttered under her breath because the response really wasn't necessary.

When it came to leading the Zenith Team, there was no one more qualified than Captain Zoom.

Jack grew aggravated as he leaned forward again. "You don't need me!" He hissed, regaining traction. "Why are you so intent on keeping me here when even Larraby didn't give a shit that I was leaving? He knows it's not going to make a difference!"

"So now Larraby's opinion on what the children need is more important to you than mine?" She scoffed at the notion. 

"I don't need either of your opinions," Jack shouted, shaking his head, "I've got my own!"

"You've never had a real opinion on this, Jack!" Marsha bit back. "You've only ever been looking out for yourself and looking for the easy way out!"

"How many times do I have to say this?" Jack held up his hands as he spoke. "They do not need me!"

"Well, maybe you need us!" Marsha said, but suddenly felt as though she shouldn't have. Like she had revealed too much.

Jack shut himself up and gave her a darkly incriminating look. There was that thing hanging over their heads. It had been ever since they really started to get to know each other, but it was low-hanging today. So close that all they'd have to do is reach out and touch it. Three little words. Marsha's last resort. The one that they both knew she wouldn't use even if she had no other choice.

"What?" He demanded, and Jack felt something stir within him.

A sense of anticipation. Oh, hell, he thought to himself with a notable wince. He wanted her to say it. He wanted her to condemn him to that life where he stayed here for her, even if it would put him through hell. He was excited by the fact that they were dancing around something so dangerously tangible.

"Then," Marsha corrected herself, squeezing her eyes shut like she was mentally chastising. "Maybe you need them."

Jack eyed her. She wasn't someone who would shy away from the fact that she cared about him and therefore wanted what was best for him as well as the team. To hear her so blatantly correct her original statement and remove herself from it spoke measures. She was doing her very best to keep this about the kids for as long as possible. Jack nearly smirked when he started to realize that when it came to affairs of the heart, she might be just as stubborn as he was. Unwilling to admit that she wanted him to stay for personal reasons.

He looked away from her in aggravation. "You don't know the first thing about what I need," he muttered.

Marsha ignored him. "Maybe they would be okay without you, maybe they would survive, but..." she paused and her tone wavered.

No, Jack hardened his eyes as he looked at her. Don't do it.

He knew what came next. A tender moment that he couldn't ignore. It always came with that tone. And right now, he couldn't afford it.

Marsha swallowed, a certain kind of fear rising up inside of her as she realized that she was standing on the precipice of losing it all. 

"I just think that..." she lifted her eyes to meet his before lowering them after obviously feeling to vulnerable, "...when you were training them, and you really started to get involved...when you put your heart into it..." she looked back up, and Jack felt himself wince at the look in her pretty eyes. "It was like..." she blinked, "...I don't know, like you came alive."

Marsha's eyebrows pulled together on her forehead. Jack absolutely hated when she did this. It really did make him feel like the bad guy. Because she was being genuine. She was never fighting him, she was constantly fighting for him, because she cared. And all he ever did was resent her for it.

Jack wished they could go back to screaming at each other. Maybe he could get them there. But Marsha was not done yet. She shook her head slightly and continued, never wavering.

"Like..." she spoke softly, physically restraining herself from reaching out and touching him, "...like you finally had something meaningful to give you a sense of purpose again." She watched as his mouth opened to interject, but she winced and shook her head. "And I know," she began, "I know that you never wanted that, I know you were actively trying to avoid that," she spoke quickly so that he could not interrupt, "but I think you needed it," she stated.

Jack stared forward. He had a million and one arguments to make, but not a single one of them fell from his lips. Marsha took that as a good enough sign as any that she should continue.

"Having something to lose isn't always such a bad thing," she insisted desperately, the urgency of her voice making Jack feel as though he was suffocating. "It can also give you something to live for."

Days ago, a stunt like this might have just worked on him. Actually, a little over a week ago, it had worked on him. It had worked so well that Jack had foolishly allowed himself to be happy where he was. Luckily, he had since steeled himself back into the person that he was safer being. Cold, calloused, bitter. Alone.

Thankfully, he was alert this morning. Typically, Marsha did her best work on him in rooms with dim lighting late at night when his inhibitions were lowered. Today, he was seeing clearly. No drugs or alcohol in his system yet, no long day wearing him down, no children warming his heart. Just him and her in the battle for their lives.

And Jack truly did resent her. Because she had gotten close. Far too close. Closer than anyone had maybe all his life, in far less time. Like it was what she had ben put on this very earth to do - unnerve him. Boy, had it worked. But no more. But she was still too close, in this very moment, he realized. Emotionally, always, but physically too. He stood in her silence for a few seconds before standing up straighter.

So, let stood In her silence for a few seconds, giving her an unreadably cold look, and let her build up a fear towards his response. Yes, they were standing too close, and yes at this point, when either one of them realized it, they would typically sent backing off. But previously, those moments had been ripe with sexual tension and misplaced longing. Right now, it was simply menacing. A threat was better felt close up and personal.

With a sneer, Jack tilted his head downwards before he spoke, so that she could see every trace of resentment in his eyes. "What did I tell you about saying out of my head, Marsha?" He asked  rhetorically in a dark, unforgiving voice. 

Now, Marsha saw the threat for what it was. It was a matter of "don't get too close or I'll force you to regret it." Well, maybe she already regretted it. She could help but realize that he chose now to drop the formalities and address her by her first name. That was just plain cruel. He was admitting that things were personal between them, just in time to throw it all back in her face and take off.

"Your shrink bullshit isn't going to work on me," he finished with a shake of his head.

Funnily enough, Marsha hadn't really been looking at this through the lens of a psychologist. No, she had simply been fighting for what she knew to be true. Leave it to him to be defensive about something that wasn't even happening.

The proximity that neither were shying away from today had created enough tension to power a small building. Thankfully, the yelling had come to a much-needed stop. There were night shifters nearby still sleeping. Now, their voices were lowered just enough to sneer menacing threats back and forth to one another, reduced to something akin to ruthless enemies rather than closest allies.

It was such a stark contrast to the way that they had been all week. Gone were the bitter fights, because Jack started pulling his weight. Believe it or not, he actually became happier and felt less of a desire to attack everyone around here for simply existing. Sure, they still bickered over techniques and differences in their approaches and personalities, but nothing like the screaming matches that they used to get into. Like this one.

In fact, they had become relatively tender with one another. Even in this moment, Marsha could remember the softness of his hand on her lower back, the warm smiles he would give her from across the table, the way that he liked to play with her hair when he thought nobody else was looking. Now, she was staring at a man with blackness in his eyes, who looked like he wouldn't care if she lived or died.

Marsha bit her tongue momentarily, taking his threats in stride. But she wasn't finished with him yet. Not while the stakes were so high.

"Working with this team meant something to you," she insisted strongly, "I'm not going to let you stand there and pretend that it didn't.

Instant denial flashed across Jack's face. In his head was that same denial, plus all the ways in which he could plead it.

"You may think that I'm naive," Marsha's voice had lowered now, and there was something incredibly important about her tone, "but at least I'm not so oblivious that I can't see what's right in front of me."

Jack let out the scoff before he could encourage himself otherwise. He knew how she meant it. That he loved the children and needed to be here with them, he just wasn't willing to accept that. Sure, it might even be true. But he found far more than trace evidence as to why her statement was so ironic.

"That's pretty rich, coming from you," he retaliated coldly, begging her to read between the lines.

Marsha blinked, wondering what he meant by that. Instantly, she felt a shift in their conversation, but couldn't place where. Almost as though they were now getting more personal than before, like Jack was referencing something that they both struggled to speak about. But she couldn't be sure. Oblivious might have been an understatement.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She demanded, wondering how he was going to turn her argument right back around on her.

Here was a man who loved four children and could have a beautiful life here with them being the hero that he was born to be, and he was pretending that he didn't enjoy any of it. That was what she had been talking about. He was oblivious to just how happy being back here was making him. How much he needed having something to live for again.

But it felt as though he had a sword hanging over her head. And he was about to seven the rope that kept it from piercing right through her.

Jack gave her a facetious chuckle under his breath, despite not finding any humour in this situation. He wasn't surprised that she was still playing the fool. If there was one thing that he had come to learn about Marsha Holloway throughout his time here, it was that she was really good at seeing everyone else's problems and projections, but her own existed in a blind spot. And he had more than half a mind to believe that she was being intentionally oblivious to them.

It didn't take a psychologist to see that she had hang ups and baggage of her own that she was not dealing with in perfect ways, it just took someone paying enough attention. He might shut himself off and push everyone away. He might refuse to process his grief and rely on systems of blame and bitterness. But she compartmentalized. Just about everything.

And whatever she didn't have a compartment for, she ignored. The reasons why Jack might not be so over the moon to be back here against his will. The abuse of power happening just over her head. The flirtations that he had been launching at her since they met. The way that anyone could have seen and predicted Jack's eventual departure from Area 52. Either she was filing it all away in a little box that remained locked, chained up, and untouchable in the back of her mind, or she was ignoring it entirely. Blowing right past all the warning signs just so that she could act surprised when it all crashed and burned.

But there was more to his statement than just that. Considering what he knew about her childhood, the accusations that he was about to make were highly unfair, but undeniably true.

"You tell me," he began, slowly moving around her like a vulture circling its next meal. "I think even Little Miss Sunshine has some ulterior motives of her own."

She did not appreciate the nickname, the insinuation, or the way that he was circling her. Her heart did begin to flutter anxiously once she realized that she was being accused of something and she didn't know what. 

Trying to remain strong, she shook her head and crossed her arms. "I don't know what you're talking about," she sighed, unwilling to budge.

At this point, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know what Jack was getting at.

And as for him? He could hear the winning bells begin to chime as soon as he realized that he had successfully made her nervous.

"How long, exactly, have you been working on this project?" He asked coldly, despite already knowing the answer. "Reinstating the team was, what? Almost a decade in the making?" He tilted his head, pretending to wait for an answer that he knew would never come. 'A decade of your hard work, from what I've heard. This stopped being Grant's project as soon as you got here. Because this was never his dream, it's yours," he stated firmly.

Marsha felt twisted up inside. Every word he was saying was true, but they weren't bad things. They weren't incriminating. Yet, he was using them against her as if they were.

Her lips pullet together tightly but she didn't dare interrupt him while he was in the middle of making an accusation. The only thing that would guarantee is that the next one would be twice as harsh.

"I don't think this has anything to do with what's best for the kids, or for me," he was just plain lying now, "I think the only reason you're freaking out right now is because I'm threatening to pull the rug out from beneath the perfect little test environment that you've spent your entire career building."

The worst part of it all was how true it could have been. Because Marsha had dedicated so much of her career to this, becuase she was now being so pushy, because she had been so desperate for it to work. But it wasn't true. Even if she had nothing to do with it, she would want what was best for Jack and those four children. And she knew that he knew that.

Accusations aside, Marsha lingered in the silence just long enough to let it strengthen her.

"That has nothing to do with any of this, Jack," she said strongly, "don't act like you don't know that." Her voice was relatively unforgiving now, and Jack recognized the fact that they had crossed over a line. A point of no return.

He wasn't finished yet, though. He had more up your sleeve.

"No, you're right," he nodded, though his voice seemed tricky, "maybe it's not about your work," he said. Marsha felt as though a trap had just been sprung, and she couldn't see it yet. "It's more personal than that, right?"

Marsha swallowed, but did not speak. Because she could sense what was coming next, and such a large part of it was spot on.

Jack had a seam-ripper in his hands and was prepared to start tearing. He knew it wouldn't feel good, he knew that it was going to hurt her, and he knew that it would only heave him with blood on his hands, but he was willing to stoop to just about any level in this moment.

"How much of a family did you have before those kids came along?"

He regretted it the second that the words left his mouth. Not because it wasn't true, but because it was. Because he knew precisely how and where he could hurt her, and he had just done so willingly and without any prompting. 

There it was. The hurt. All over Marsha's face as she tried to come to terms with what he had just said to her. Damn, Jack thought to himself as her pain became his. He had inflicted it knowingly, but he still felt it like a shot to the chest.

Marsha was not very open about her past. Select few knew that she was an orphan, nobody knew the rest of it. The abuse, the hospitals, the recovery groups. Dr. Grant and other close friends knew about her late fiance's passing, and the future that his death had stolen from her. Not a soul knew that she had tried to have children but couldn't. Nobody knew that she could hardly bring herself to visit her siblings because as much as she loved her nieces and nephews, seeing them only made her long for children of her own to love and raise.

There was no way that Jack could have known that she had spent her entire life off in search of a family. He couldn't have known that she had come so close on multiple occasions only for death to rip it all to pieces. Unless, of course, he could see right through her.

She felt the same kind of panic and disappointment that always rose up within her whenever Marsha was reminded that no matter how far she went, she could never outrun her past.

"That's what I thought," Jack said, and he could feel something die within him when he realized that he had crossed the line into supervillain territory. Lashing out at the only person who had never done anything but believe in him. "Well, congratulations," he continued coldly, taking out his grievances on her. "You've finally got some semblance of something that you can almost call a family."

Marsha's face twisted as he spoke. Anger, betrayal, confusion, hurt. She knew that he was lashing out. That he was trying to go up in flames so that he didn't have to remember her the way that she really was, so that it was easier to chalk his entire time at Area 52 up to a nightmare. But it still hurt.

"I can tell you right now," he continued," me walking away isn't going to ruin that."

That's where he was wrong and he knew it. Yes, she found a family in the team. In four children that she made her own. But it was more than that, because he was there too. He was her partner, part of the family. Besides, he could see the way that she had always looked at him. Like he was the greatest thing since sliced bread. He was fully aware of her feelings for him. And it's not like he ever did much to dissuade them from deepening.

Besides, him walking away would ruin it all. They couldn't do this without him, and if they had no program to work with, there would be no reason to keep the children here. It would only be a matter of time before she lost all of them. Before they lost each other.

And she could have told him right then and there that he was wrong. That it wasn't just the children who made her feel like she finally had a family. That he was the reason she had felt things previously foreign to her. She could have told him that she didn't want him to leave because she was falling in love with him, and she could have sworn that she could see a future together.

The fluorescent light flickered above her head and for a moment, time stood still. Jack recognized the flickering and realized that they were just outside of her room. Where so many arguments had taken place, but none quite as important as this one. He stood there staring at her for far too long, trying his best to commit her face to memory, because this was likely the very last time that he would ever see it. She had a Wikipedia page and was all over the scientific portion of the internet, but he knew he'd never bring himself to type her name into any search bars.

He shook himself from his trance right before the shouting started.

"You know what, Jack?" Marsha's face flashed with fury as she buried the hurt and stood up for herself, straightening her shoulders. "I hope you do go," she said, shaking her head.

Jack opened his mouth to fight back, grateful that the fire had returned to their argument so that he did not feel quite so bad, but she had yet to let him get a word in edgewise.

"Go live your miserable, bitter, empty life and forget all about everything that you had here," she continued.

Jack fought of a grin. This was what he'd wanted from her this morning. He wanted her furious and full of rage, begging him to leave his sight and never look back. He could work with that.

"But I was right," she said coldly, her tone lowering, "you'll never be able to see what's right in front of you."

And just like that, Jack's pleasure gave way to something else. That same agonizingly thrilling excitement that he tried to mask with dread. The Hail Mary hadn't just disappeared because he decided to stary striking below the belt. Jack was about to find out just what she was willing to use against him. How far she was willing to go to keep him here. And he couldn't wait.

The words tasted sweet on her tongue but were laced with a poison that made her stomach hurt. Marsha couldn't say it. If Jack wanted to play into it and spell it out for them, that was one thing. But she couldn't build their life on an ultimatum. She couldn't reveal her feelings just because she knew it would change things. She couldn't condemn them to that fate.

When she stared up into his eyes, Marsha realized that she had already said everything she needed to and more. She fought, he pushed back. He struck her with impressively low blows that successfully hurt her. She blew up and revealed that she no longer wanted anything to do with him. There was nowhere else they could go from here. Not without beating a dead horse, that is.

So, she gave him a cold look before she turned herself around. In vain, she tried to walk away from it all. From him and from this fight. It was quite handy that her room was so close by, for she would certainly need to take a couple minutes to compose herself after all this was over. But, she never even managed to lay a hand on the doorknob before his voice stopped her.

He shouldn't have said anything. Neither expected him to. He already knew what she meant, he shouldn't have wanted to press the topic any further. He should have bowed his head in shame, accepted the fact that he was too cowardly to do anything about the feelings that obviously existed between them, and kept his mouth shut so that he would never have to.

But something shifted within him. Because he did want to know. And in fact, he did want to do something about them. He likely never would, but he sure as hell wanted to. In fact, he couldn't even hear the little voice in his head saying, "it's only how you feel, it isn't what you want." But he sure as hell could still hear the one calling him a lying traitor.

The cold voice came from behind her. "What are you talking about?" Jack demanded.

Marsha looked up, wondering if she had heard him correctly. Did he really want her to go on? Did he really want to know? It wasn't a matter of knowing, she reminded herself. It was only ever a matter of hearing the truth out loud.

There was something in his tone that prompted her to turn around slowly and try to make sense of it all. Urgent but not panicked. Like he had fought against asking for clarification but might regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't. Like he had been so close to being relieved that the argument was over only to insist that it continue with all the facts laid out on the table.

Seeing the strong, unwavering look in his eyes left Marsha as the one who faltered. Here was her big moment. The chance to finally say the words that she had been yearning to for some time now. The opportunity to spill her guts and condemn him to an eternity of regret, one way or the other. And she couldn't do it. She was not that cruel.

Even if he was practically begging her to.

"Nothing, Jack," she shook her head, still mad. "Clearly nothing that would matter to you so please, just..." she looked up from across the hall and held up a hand, "...just go."

Now - like a dog with a bone - there was no way in hell that Jack was going to drop it. He needed all the fact before he took off, and he needed them verbalized. He could have a gut feeling, he could logically know the truth, but he would never fully accept it unless he heard it said aloud. 

A trance-like state fell upon them as the crossroads presented itself. They stood yards away from each other, an icy distance that made this minefield easier to navigate. Jack held her gaze and dejectedly dropped his arms down to his sides in an expression that told her he was out of ammo and she wasn't.

But Marsha was not the kind of person who continued to fire against an unarmed opponent. If the roles were reversed, they both knew that he would just continue shooting and shooting. Even if she was unarmed, even if she was wounded, and even if she was waving a white flag. Now, Jack was only two of those things, but she had already laid her weapons down. And for once in her life, Marsha Holloway refused to be the fool. 

Jack knew what was going on. How many times had they been arguing late at night when suddenly the tension would strike them out of nowhere and they'd be breathing in one another's faces, staring down at their lips, resisting the urge to lean in and close the gap? How many hours had he spent flirting and teasing her? How many times had he said something that alluded to the fact that they had something? Especially on that particular Monday night when she had shown up in his quarters after hours. There could be no denying their blossoming romance after that.

He knew what she was talking about and he knew full well what might keep him here. She was not about to be baiting into saying it first only for him to rub it in her face as he walked away.

Still, it felt quite revealing to speak about this in broad daylight rather than in the middle of the night behind closed doors.

They stood there frozen. Marsha seconds away from turning back around and disappearing into her room, Jack looking utterly defeated as his hands hung down by his sides. 

"Just say it, Marsha," he said lowly, his voice sending a shiver up her spine even from afar.

Her heart was squeezing inside her chest. He wanted her to say it. He wasn't asking from ground zero, he was asking with a full deck of cards in his hand save for the one that made everything else make sense. Only he knew exactly which card he was missing, and he knew that she currently held it.

Marsha's left hand was fiddling with the small charm on her necklace just for the sake of holding on to something. Her eyes were wide and uncertain as she stared back at him, giving away just about everything that she was feeling. 

Jack's language had been both intentional and revealing. "Just say it." Suggesting that he already knew what "it" was, he just needed to hear it from her.

"I'm no good at guessing," Jack added roughly.

It would be pointless to say it now. It would do nothing but hurt them both. They had spent weeks building something together on a basis of unwavering faith, push and pull, and some well-earned trust. Now, that structure had come tumbling down in a matter of minutes. As soon as she saw him with that bag on his shoulder, it all fell apart. They couldn't very well stand here and try to build something out of the rubble. Not when it was nothing more than ash at their feet.

They held one another's gaze until Marsha's face cracked. Up until now, Jack hadn't even realized that she'd been wearing a mask.

"Why?" She exclaimed as a desperate plea more than any kind of offensive assault. "So that you can remind me again that nothing hear means anything to you?"

And just like that, she had said it. No, she never used the Hail Mary. She never uttered the words. But she had said it right then and there. Jack was no fool either, he heard every word that she did not say. What about me? What about us? That was what she was demanding. Did that mean nothing, too?

And the answer to that, of course, was god no. No, it had meant everything. And that was precisely why he had to walk away now. Because he had let somebody mean everything to him before, and it only ever ended in pain and grief. That somebody is still lying six feet under the ground. A flash of Alex's closed casket graced his mind in that moment in spite of himself. She had been torn apart so badly that they didn't dare open the casket to family members. Nobody would want to remember her that way.

And it was that casket that remained in the back of his mind as this conversation with Marsha went on.

Jack could hardly breathe. Thanks to her outburst, he realized it all. This wasn't about the kids right now. It wasn't about this place or the program or anyone else here. It wasn't about anyone's career or their goals. It wasn't even just about him. This was about them. For the first time since meeting one another, this moment had nothing to do with anything other than the two of them and what was going on between them.

With the words that she had not said, Marsha had posed a question to him. He might be an idiot, but he was still a man who knew when a woman was in love with him. When that woman was asking if he felt the same way about her. And as he stared at her wordlessly, Jack realized that he already knew the answer. In fact, he felt that answer in his very bones, as if he had been born with it already built into him and he just hadn't come across it until now.

How could he not love her? She had stopped him in his tracks and demanded that he quit walking in the same circle. She directed him onto a new course after becoming numb and dizzy for two decades. She chiseled until his defenses cracked and crumbled, and she caught him when he fell. She had clawed her way rather viciously under his skin and even made room for old friends and four children. She saved him from himself when he was at his most hopeless.

And he hated himself for knowing all that and still choosing to walk away. Now he knew he had to. It wasn't fair to either of them. Loving him was a death wish, and he couldn't lose her. He could leave her, but he couldn't lose her. He wouldn't survive it.

For all of Marsha's oblivion, she did notice the way that his breath caught in his throat. The way that his mouth moved as if to form a sentence that later died in his subconscious, because no words ever came out. And as she watched him throw away whatever it was that he was about to say, Marsha wondered if she might always be stuck right there in that moment. Out in the hallway waiting for his answer. Waiting for the words that would never come. Wondering what hew as going to say.

To his own surprise, Jack moved towards her. A few tentative steps so as not to frighten her.

"Marsha-" he began in earnest.

She realized that he was closer now, and held her hands up before her chest, wordlessly asking him to stay away from her. "No, dont," she demanded.

In all truthfulness, Jack did not know what he intended on saying to her once he got close enough. He had been counting on his instincts taking over. He might've just kissed her right there in the hallway and then really have to explain himself. That likely would have been the wrong call, but boy did he want to it.

The emotion on Marsha's face had been swallowed up and replaced with anger. "You're you and I'm me," she said flippantly, as though it was a simple fact. "I know how this ends, Jack. I've always known that."

He heard what she was getting at loud and clear. He was the bigshot, the playboy, the hero, and she was nobody that he would be interested in. Nobody worth his time. Quite frankly, he resented the insinuation that he would be so shallow.

"I think you should leave," she confirmed with a nod, her voice turning back to stone. "You're right, it's all you ever wanted," she raised her head, ignoring the fact that he had indeed taken another step closer to her. "And if that hasn't changed then there's no place for you here." Another step. "In fact, I want you to go."

Another step. Now, he was right in front of her. So close that by the time she was speaking her last word, she had to crane her neck upwards just to meet his eyes.

And that might have been the exact moment when it all changed for Jack. As she was staring daggers up at him, insisting that she wanted him to leave this place and never look back. That they were better off without him. Suddenly, it wasn't just how he felt. He wanted to stay. Out of the sheer force of spite alone.

The anger in her eyes, the hatred on her face, the fire. It fuelled him. He wanted to be back, just to haunt her. Just to see if she would still be there burning for him.

It was that fire within her that had made him feel alive for the first time in decades. Sure, he wanted to run from the flames as they were now, but he knew deep down that he might not be able to breathe without it. A strange part of him told himself that he would be back. Just to piss her off.

His tone regained its cocky, offensive tone. "You want me to go?" He demanded, obviously trying to stoke the flames of their dying fight.

Jack stared at her firmly. She could take that stance all she wanted, but she had damn well better be prepared to die on that hill. He took another half step forward just to see if she would back down, but she only straightened her back as she looked upwards defiantly.

"I do," Marsha nodded strongly, but she had always been a lousy liar. "I want you to leave and take your bitter resentments with you."

Jack understood her desire to be cruel. To part ways on bad terms. That had been his very intention. But it was his game, and he wasn't about to let her beat him at it. He leaned slowly towards her and dropped his voice.

"Out of everything you want right now," he said in a voice rough like gravel, so close that his breath was tickling her lips in anticipation. "That's really what you're going with?" Those last words came out as nothing above a low whisper.

Marsha couldn't stop her knees from weakening and her eyes from clouding over with lust, but knew what he was up to. She had dug up the topic only to leave it out in the hot sun. Now, he was kicking it.

They had not touched, and that was their only saving grace. The only reason why they could still claim this was an innocent conversation between two processionals. A workplace disagreement. But now Jack loomed over her daring her to name the real reason that she did not want him to leave, and held his lips barely an inch from hers as he did so. His hands very well may have been all over her, it would have had the same effect.

Marsha felt her lips twitch with something that could only be anticipation, and her heart pounded inside her chest. He was taking her for a fool again, and playing her as one. And like the stupid woman that she had always been, she'd fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. With a dry swallow, Marsha shook her head slowly but remained where she was, peering up at him like it was the last time she'd ever see him, which it probably was.

"That's all you're willing to give me," she whispered, pain on her face as though it physically hurt her to speak those words.

In a way, it did. She knew that heartbreak manifested in physical symptoms, and she had felt enough grief to know that to be true. Right now, she was certainly aching.

With her words came a kind of coldness that Jack had not been prepared to feel. Reality was back, and it was crueler than he remembered. She hadn't moved. Her forehead was still brushing against his ever so faintly, still leaning in, their lips were still inches apart, the ball was still in his court. If he wanted to prove her wrong, all he would have to do is lean in. But he never did.

Instead, Jack gritted his teeth and fixed his posture, immediately feeling the withdrawal of their near-embrace. 

Marsha knew that the fight was over. And even if he may seem like the winner, she knew that they both lost. But she had to be strong now and let him walk away before they destroyed one another. She could not afford to be ruined by yet another man.

And in turn, he stepped backwards and took her in one last time. The smell of her perfume still clinging to his clothes, the warmth of her body. The delicate slope of her nose, the splashing of faint freckles across her cheeks. The long dark hair, the electric blue eyes. He took a picture in his mind and then he turned around.

It took every piece of resolve that he had left in him not to turn around. To keep his legs moving in the right direction. To freedom.

But Marsha stood and watched every step that he took away from her. Both eliciting the picture of pure stoicism. 

He turned the corner and was gone. And even as Jack shook the thoughts from his head and found hope and excitement in the open road to freedom, he thought of her. How could he not? He didn't want to, but he did. He wondered if she would ever know just how close he came to giving it all up for her. If only she would have asked him to.

[thatzenithnerd]

Zoom + Fanfiction

The Grand Return

[thatzenithnerd]

Zoom + Quotes

Pt. VIII

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Zoom + Quotes

Pt. VII

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Zoom + Quotes

Pt. VI

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Zoom + Quotes

Pt. V

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Zoom + Quotes

Pt. IV

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Zoom + Textposts

Pt. 29

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Zoom + Textposts

Pt. 28

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Zoom + Textposts

Pt. 27

[thatzenithnerd]

Zoom + Textposts

Pt. 26

[thatzenithnerd]

a whole bunch of gazan mutual aid projects and nonprofits. if the decision of which individual fundraiser to give to feels too daunting, or if you just want to help as many people as possible in one go, these are great initiatives to support.

care for gaza - focuses on providing food and essential supplies. donate here or here.

connecting humanity - securing internet access via donations of virtual sim cards (esims). if you can't afford a whole plan yourself, crips for esims is a communal pool that will use your donation to purchase and maintain esims

gaza soup kitchen - provides food, medical care, and classes for children. also has a gofundme

glia gaza medical support initiative - provides medical care through field clinics and tents at hospitals. donations can also be sent through their website.

ele elna elak - provides clean water, food, clothing, and shelter. they also have a gofundme

life for gaza - raising money for the gaza municipality to repair water and waste management infrastructure

taawon - partners with local civil organizations to provide food, water, medical care, shelter, and basic supplies

the sameer project - running various initiatives providing tents, medical care, and necessities. they have their own encampment project focused on sheltering families with children, sick and disabled members, or members in need of perinatal care

islamic relief worldwide's gaza emergency appeal - provides food, water, hygiene kits, medical supplies, and psychological support

baitulmaal - provides a variety of necessities, including food, water, shelter, and medical supplies

gaza mutual aid fund - distributes food, hygiene products, water, and other essential supplies, including financial support. run by @/el-shab-hussein's amazing friend Mona. updates can be found on her instagram.

hygiene kits for gaza - provides hygiene supplies including menstrual products, wipes, and toothbrushes/toothpaste

anera - provides a variety of necessities, including food, water, hygiene supplies, medicine, blankets and mattresses, and psychological care

palestine children's relief fund - provides supplies and support with a focus on children. also has an initiative for lebanon

dahnoun mutual aid - provides water, food, tents, baby supplies, financial support, and other necessities. updates can be found through their instagram

certainly this is not an exhaustive list, so please feel free to add on other projects or organizations that i didn't include. and as always, please take the time to donate if you can and share. it truly makes all the difference.

[thatzenithnerd]

not to slutshame. but what a slut

[thatzenithnerd]

Zoom + Fanfiction

The Second Coming

[thatzenithnerd]

Zoom: The Second Coming

Chapter 15: Borrowed Time

Sunday, April 30, 2006

The rest of the weekend passed by in a whirlwind.

Sunday was spent in and out of impromptu meetings. With Larraby remaining on base for the weekend thanks to all the commotion, Jack took this as the perfect opportunity to sit down with the general and try to lay out some guidelines for how this next part was going to go.

He was about to be paid half a million dollars for his efforts in collaboration with the government on the newly reinstated Zenith Team, and his legal obligation was officially complete. Up until everything had changed, Jack had not given a second thought to whether or not he was going to take off once this was all over.

Before, he couldn’t wait to get out. He had nothing tethering him to the place, nothing to lose, and no interest in gaining either of those things. Now, he had a team he loved, his brother back, his powers, and a woman that he was not prepared to leave behind. Of course, all of those things instinctually wanted to send him running for the hills. He just didn’t know if he should fight that urge or not.

As far as Marsha and the kids were concerned, they just assumed that he was going to stay. Things were different now, everyone knew that. None of them knew how Jack could walk away from them now that he had powers, and he had pronounced them a family. Nobody was even thinking about it.

But when Jack sat down with Larraby and demanded a proper office, an assistant, a seat at the decision-making table, more authority, and final jurisdiction over the Zenith Team, he was met with tough news.

“We are not equipped to give you any of that at this time,” General Larraby said in a typical gruff tone, clasping his hands together as he leaned back in his chair at the head of the table.

It was just the two of them – no gloves, no witnesses.

“I don’t see why not,” Jack shrugged harshly, coldness behind his eyes. “Last time I checked, I was not only the commander of the Zenith Team, but also a captain with your armed forces.”

Larraby shook his head. “I really don’t think you want to be pulling rank right now, boy,” he muttered. “We both know who’ll come out on top.”

He was right. Jack might have been with the military for six years, an esteemed naval captain for three of those, but Larraby had still been a five-star general for a decade and a half now.

“Well, you and I both know that I’m not about to try to lead that team without a seat at the table,” Jack threw his hands out to the sides. “And this place as it stands now is no home for them. We’ll need to make some serious additions so that it’s not just some musty army base.”

Back in the day, he had been the clueless commander that took Dr. Grant at his word, never sitting in on any meetings himself. Things had to change. He did not trust the authorities in this place, and now had more than good enough reason not to.

“We need to work on their public debuts first and foremost, and they’re still not nearly trained enough for that,” the general continued. “Their first and only field run was nearly a disaster, they need at least another year’s worth of training before we can even think about launching the team publicly.”

Jack did not know what any of that had to do with his demands.

“I don’t really care about your publicity stunts,” he shook his head. “I’m not about to train them without knowing what I’m training them for. Not again.”

Larraby knew there would be no arguing with him here, but he truly was not prepared to attempt to fumble his way through granting Jack the status at Area 52 that his military ranking would allow him.

“So, what’s it going to be?” Jack asked finally. “You want me here or not?”

A moment of silence passed through the room as Larraby contemplated his options. He did need Jack in order to maintain the team. They weren’t fully trained, and Dylan was not remotely ready to take on the responsibility of being commander just yet.

Besides, as brilliant as Marsha was, she knew little about physical training. Nobody would be able to compare with Jack in that respect. However, Larraby was not about to walk out with his tail between his legs and hand his military base over to this conman.

“Stay the week,” Larraby finally said.

He was confident that the two of them could work together without relinquishing any of his power.

“The kids are heading back to school. Training will be done after classes. Stick around and see if you can make this work. You already have an office, and you can’t be a part of any classified meetings, you know that,” he continued.

Jack’s face had turned sour.

“But stay and try it out. Otherwise you are free to go.”

Larraby stood from his seat just as a legal representative and Dr. Grant were entering the room. He had said all he needed to say. Jack was a necessary member of that team, but Larraby really couldn’t stand him sometimes. Perhaps things would be easier without the younger man present to step on his toes.

Not even half an hour later, Jack’s bank account was $500,000 richer and he had signed the wavers that declared him a free man.

In the meantime, Marsha had been filled in on the plan for the upcoming schedules now that the children were officially out of initiation and the imminent threat had been defeated. She was in her little classroom explaining what she knew to four pairs of eager ears.

The children were all being transferred to the best schools in Las Vegas, which was less than an hour away. Area 52 would still be their home base, and they would have to leave on their very own shuttle bus quite early, but at least they would get to go be regular kids.

Cindy was the first to get things sorted out, and that had happened days ago already. With her being the only one heading off to elementary school, representatives from the Special Projects team had sent out applications over a week ago in hopes of getting her into a safe, private school.

From there, they were receiving offers and promises of all sorts, hoping that whoever this child was that was sent straight from the military, she would get to attend their school. Hence why she had already been promised the lead in the school play.

As far as the other children were concerned, it was only sorted out today that Summer and Dylan would be headed to Palo Verde High School while they had secured Tucker a place at Merryhill Private alongside Cindy.

While Marsha explained how this would essentially create a brand-new training schedule for them that would consist mostly of weekends, the children did not really know how to feel. Right now, they craved going back to school and getting out of the confines of the base and its tiny living quarters, but starting over in new schools was nerve racking.

Marsha herself knew that it was a recipe for disaster. Sending them an hour away there and back every day for school, expecting them to train afterwards while also encouraging them to sign up for extracurriculars, and running training drills on the weekends would have them burning out within a month. She had tried to explain this to Dr. Grant and the rest of the decision-makers, but had been relatively ignored.

When were they supposed to do their homework? Study for tests? Call their families? She felt as though they were standing in a precarious spot now that everything had changed, but she did not have enough sway to make her voice heard. If they were truly prepared to house a new Zenith Team that consisted of school-aged children, they should have hired some in-house teachers so that they could complete their classes here on base.

Nonetheless, she would let the children be excited about going back to school for now, and bring it up in the next Special Projects meeting.

Next, Marsha met with Connor. She had secured a place at Georgetown University for him, enrolled in their physics department. Luckily, all his credits from Stockton would transfer over nicely and he could pick up right where he left off. Connor expressed that he had no desire to remain at Area 52 if he could be doing something better with his life. He had been given a remarkable second chance, and he wanted to ensure that he was going to make the most of that.

Finally, Special Projects had an impromptu meeting in one of the larger conference rooms, with Grant and Marsha heading the table as they discussed the next step of their training. To their surprise, Jack was able to stand there quietly next to them and only speak when he had something relevant to say.

Basically, Phase Two was all about skill refinement. That meant more training drills, more simulations, more field practice, getting the kids fitted for customized suits, preparing them for any and everything that they could encounter.

With no real timeline set on that, phase three would consist of preparing the team for their big public debut. That remained far in the future, and wasn’t a real concern at the moment, only a lingering thought in the back of their minds. Besides, if it was decreed a bad idea, they would end up pulling the plug on the whole thing. Alter egos are valuable things, after all.

It had been a long day already, and that was just the morning. Most people were relatively grumpy – Sundays were for sleeping in and dreading the next day of work.

1:20pm

After the meetings had been taken care of, folks milled about everywhere. Connor was busy with Dr. Grant getting things set up for his transfer, Jack had been independently contemplating his next move, Marsha was setting up her classroom for Phase Two, and the children were sneaking through the hallway on a special mission.

Jack ran into them around a corner in the Training Centre, and noticed that Tucker was attempting to conceal a big bouquet of flowers behind his back. He had no idea where they had managed to find living flowers in this joint, but figured that they had had help somewhere.

“Hold it,” he stated from down the hallway once the kids attempted to stealth their way past him. “What are you troublemakers up to?”

Summer cast a tentative glance behind them through the window into the classroom where Marsha was wandering about, and the rest of the kids shushed him, insisting that he keep his voice down so as not to blow their cover.

“What are those about?” He added, gesturing towards the flowers.

“They’re for Miss Holloway,” Cindy whispered loudly, before Jack could get any ideas. “As a thank you for training us so well.”

Jack instantly grew defensive. He cast his arms out at the sides with a shake of his head.

“Uh, hello?” He said sarcastically.

The kids eyed him uncertainly raising eyebrows. “What?” Dylan said.

“I trained you, too,” he gaped. “Where are my flowers?”

The children all shared a quiet giggle. For a grown man, he sure knew how to act like a child.

“No offence man, but she did way more than you,” Tucker explained, as the rest of them nodded.

Jack narrowed his eyes with a scoff. “I made you what you are!” He was being sarcastic, but a part of him was serious.

The kids just rolled their eyes. “Sure,” Summer shrugged. “But she did all the hard work. Not to mention she stepped up way before you did.”

Jack’s sour face remained silent, and Dylan elbowed Tucker in the side. “He’s just mad because he didn’t think of the flowers first.”

Knowing that daring to insinuate anything romantic between Jack and Marsha would provoke the man to either run for the hills or send them all away, Dylan figured that it was the perfect opportunity to get him to shut up. And it was. Besides, everyone knew that Jack had yet to thank Marsha for all her efforts, and he had been on the verge of aneurysm about it. If he had thought of flowers, it all could have been avoided.

“Alright, alright, fine,” Jack waved them away, still feigning that he was grumpy. “Go make her day if you have to.”

The kids all giggled before piling into the classroom.

At first, Jack watched them through the window and saw as Marsha’s eyes widened in shock before a beautiful smile blossomed on her face. As thanks and hugs were doled out, Jack realized that no matter what happened, they would be okay without him. They just needed her. They didn’t need him. If he walked away, they would be alright so long as she was there.

He could not have been more wrong. The only reason she was able to succeed was because Jack was still there giving her the power to do so. She may have been the unsung hero of that team, but without him, there was no team. And she couldn’t work around that.

Nonetheless, her value was undeniable, and he knew that. Talk about an ace up his sleeve. Up all of their sleeves. Him, the kids, the whole team, Special Projects, this entire facility. She deserved way more than just flowers.

Eventually, he came to lean himself in the doorframe as Marsha found a vase from one of the many cupboards, filled it with water using the sink off to the side, and placed the flowers carefully inside. Meanwhile, the children were chattering away until they realized that they were going to be late for dinner, and did not want to miss out on the spaghetti and meatballs that were being served tonight.

Marsha was caught up in her own little world, admiring the flowers, going through the binders of material that was all likely related to Phase Two, and Jack figured that she might not have noticed him standing there at all. Again, he could not have been more wrong.

“You know I don’t like when you brood like that,” she finally said, without even raising her eyes.

Marsha had assumed that Jack would take off with the children, she was surprised when he had lingered. Maybe he had something to say. Maybe she already knew what it was. Maybe she liked to see him squirm a little.

Jack chuckled silently and kept his hands in his pockets as he shoved himself out of the doorframe and wandered into the classroom, standing on the other side of one of the desk tables, with the bouquet between them as Marsha continued to work.

“You know I always thought flowers were just a handy excuse for people who didn’t know how to express themselves,” he said sarcastically, giving her a mocking raise of an eyebrow.

Marsha gave him a closed-lipped grin, arching a brow of her own. “If that’s the case then why don’t I see you here with any?” She teased right back.

As long as she had known him, she never took Jack as someone who was any good with words. He had managed to surprise her here and there, but she had always been able to tell that in those particular moments, he had surprised even himself.

“I certainly don’t need flowers to tell you–”

Instantly – as if it had been an ironic bout of divine intervention – Jack choked on his words.

To tell her what? Hell, he didn’t know. Again, his mouth was moving, and words were leaving it, coming straight from his heart. They fell short when he realized that he had no idea what it was that he wanted to tell her.

With nothing to say and a sentence hanging in the air, Jack cleared his throat and attempted damage control.

“Anything,” he said bluntly.

Marsha could not help but stifle what was about half a scoff and half a giggle. That man never knew what he wanted to say, he certainly never knew what he should say. And that was okay with her, she held him at no obligation.

“Mmhm,” she trilled, continuing to smile as her eyes returned downwards at the charts she was placing in the binder. “There aren’t enough flowers in the world, Jack,” she teased.

She knew that the two of them were in a delicate place at the moment, she did not want to do or say anything that would send Jack into a tailspin of any kind, but she also did not intend on losing the banter that they had always had. It came so much easier now that they really trusted each other, now that they were as honest as they could be, and that there was no looming threat breathing down their backs, causing tension.

“Very funny,” he mumbled, crossing his arms.

He realized that he had no real reason to be in here. He had once again chickened out on offering up any kind of thank you or big speech to follow in the children’s footsteps, so now what?

Frankly, he was afraid that once he started speaking from the heart, he just wouldn’t stop, and the two of them might get themselves into some uncharted territory. She deserved far more than he was willing to give her in terms of expressing his gratitude, but he couldn’t bring himself to go out on a limb like that.

“We’ve already established that you see right through me, anyway,” he stated, hoping that she could just fill in the blanks.

There. A perfect thank you.

“Hey,” he shook his head, changing the subject before he could feel bad about it. “Have you seen Connor?”

Marsha looked up from her work. “Um,” she pondered for a moment. “Going for lunch, last I heard. That was close to half an hour ago already, though,” she finished, glancing down at her watch.

“Oh,” Jack stared at her. “Okay,” he said with a nod.

He needed to say more. He was not a coward. He couldn’t just watch as the children expressed their gratitude for all that she had done for their team, and then insinuate that he was going to do the same, only to completely back down and change the subject. He already knew Connor was in the cafeteria, it was where he was headed next. That was not why he was here.

Marsha stared at him uncertainly as he continued to blankly look in her directly. It was as if he had something more to say, but just couldn’t manage to spit it out. What was he doing? Again, he was not this person. Women did not make him nervous. Women did not accelerate the beating of his heart unless they were in the bedroom or on their way there. Women did not make his palms sweat at the thought of expressing his feelings to her. Apparently, now they did. Well, this one did, anyway.

When he realized that she was staring at him with a confused expression, he blinked his thoughts away.

“Anything else I can help you with, captain?” She said sarcastically, shaking her head slightly as she attempted to refrain from outright mocking his awkward demeanour.

Jack shook his head and straightened his posture, regaining his personality following that temporary lapse.

“Nope,” his voice returned to normal, and he gave her a cheeky grin, walking backwards towards the door. “At ease.”

6:30pm

Jack couldn’t focus through his lunch with Connor, who was going on and on about Georgetown and how he wondered if their old friend Matt ever ended up going to school there and what he was doing now.

Jack couldn’t focus through his coffee with Dr. Grant in the staff room later, as they discussed the various tasks he could take on during the day while the children were off at school. Something about training tactics and strategy creation.

Jack couldn’t focus through his conversation with Dylan and Tucker over dinner, as they discussed what kind of extracurriculars they planned on taking part in once they were back in school. Dylan wanted to see about getting on with a photography club, while Tucker had always wanted to play soccer.

Jack couldn’t focus when he walked Cindy and Summer came by, talking about the former’s upcoming endeavour onto the stage and how excited she was about it.

He couldn’t focus after dinner in the staff room with a bunch of the guys watching a cutthroat basketball game.

He could focus when he stopped by the lounge, lingering in the doorway to see Summer and Dylan looking particularly happy all cuddled up together on the couch. Whispering to one another, staring with stars in their eyes, sneaking a kiss or two.

Jack tried not to look. He didn’t want to see it. But at the same time, he was glad that it was happening. But he worried. He worried that they might suffer the same fate he did. And he was oh, so jealous. With the pain in his heart, Alex may as well have been standing there right beside him.

That had been him once. Young and hopeful and full of love and excitement for the future. Never thinking that anything could ruin the plans that he made by taking away the person that he loved. In a flash, she was gone. Before they ever even got to the good part. And she took all those plans with her. Alex.

In his head, Jack sometimes felt as though he was still that twenty-year-old boy. Young and in love. Him and his girl against the world. Sometimes it felt as though his spirit had died with her – hence why he hadn’t bothered trying to look for love since she was taken from him.

But was that even true?

At first, maybe. But after years of bitterness and people coming in and out of his life, Jack had encountered a few women that he felt as though he had a real connection with. It was those people that he refused to look twice at. So maybe it wasn’t that he didn’t bother looking for love, maybe it was more truthful to say that he had gone out of his way to avoid it. Maybe he had just convinced himself that he was immune to love when really, he was fighting it off tooth and nail while telling anyone who’d listen that he didn’t believe in love.

But Dylan and Summer weren’t.

And a sick feeling in Jack’s stomach told him to sabotage it all. To remind them that at the drop of a hat, they could lose it all. That if they were going to be on a team like this where their lives were always in danger, it was safer to think of each other as colleagues and nothing more.

He shook his head and remembered Marsha’s words. The words that saved this team from the same fate as Jack’s original team. They never had this. Him and Alex found a connection, but it was shallow and physical until they were ready to get serious. He loved Connor more than life, but they were family. The rest of them never felt like a family, they felt like a unit. And it was their lack of cohesion that took them out at the knees.

This team had that. They were a family. No, they were all a family. Him, Connor, the kids, Marsha, even Dr. Grant was more emotionally involved this time. Nothing bad was going to happen, because they wouldn’t let it. They stood up to Larraby and the powers at be, and made a better future.

But all that hung in the balance. If anything happened now, it would only hurt ten times as much. Losing his team nearly killed Jack. It froze him in time, and it drove him to a perpetual numbness for twenty years. He hardly surprised that, but he wouldn’t survive anything happening to this team. To those kids.

And here sat Summer and Dylan, the very picture of everything Jack wanted. Romantic, in love, just starting out. They would have a long, happy future together. Jack wasn’t going to let it be any other way. He was going to protect this for them because nobody had been able to do that for him and Alex. He had to help these two kids do what he never got to. The thing he wanted more than anything when he was their age.

But it was a little ironic. A little unfair. Like a cruel trick of fate. Because it was nice to see, but it also hurt like hell as Jack stood alone in the doorway. He had nobody to go home to. His love had died decades ago, and he didn’t believe in second chances.

These kids were getting everything they wanted – everything he wanted – but Jack’s world already ended when he lost his love. Now, he was just wasting time waiting to die. With a dead girl in the back of his mind and no hope for the future.

Shaking him out of his conflicting thoughts, Jack realized that somebody had arrived at his side. A head shorter than him and standing a foot or so away, he wouldn’t have even noticed her had he not suddenly smelled her perfume.

“Aren’t they sweet together?” Marsha said with a smile, obviously following Jack’s gaze to the pair of young lovers over on the couch.

He swallowed dryly, coming out of his trance. “Sickeningly,” Jack deadpanned, crossing his arms.

Marsha did not relent. By now, she was used to Jack’s bitter routine, and didn’t believe a word of it. She merely nudged his upper arm with her shoulder and shook her head.

“You know,” she teased affectionately. “There’s really no use in pretending not to have a heart anymore.”

Jack smiled thinly and against his will. He didn’t want to be happy in this moment. He wanted to brood in his jealousy and pine over somebody lost to him. But she had made him smile. Happy.

After a comfortable silence, Jack finally shook his head. “They sure make it look easy,” he mumbled.

Marsha shrugged her mouth and shook her head. “Love is the easiest thing in the world,” she said in a small voice.

Her eyes took on a faraway look. Summer and Dylan were the epitome of everything she had ever wanted at that age. Love that didn’t come with conditions or violence. Love that was easy, that did not scare her, love that made her feel cherished.

She had that love once.

Of course, she had loved many times over. She would give anyone a chance knowing that true love could be found even in the most hopeless of places. But it had been so wonderful with Robert. Even if things ended badly and their relationship began to crumble even before he died, she always felt as though he loved her because he was meant to, not because he had to.

That love was ripped from her while she was standing in a wedding dress, envisioning herself wearing that very one as she walked down the aisle in a few weeks’ time. The loss of Robbie had ripped such a large hole in her that Marsha had dropped off the face of the earth for over a month. She ran across the country to some party city in Florida and tried to numb herself before coming back stronger.

Some nights, she still laid awake thinking of the husband that she was supposed to have and the life that they were supposed to live. How different things could be. Sure, she wouldn’t be where she is now, but she would be with the man that she loved. The person that she intended on spending the rest of her life with.

She supposed that in her head, she might still be twenty-four years old. Stuck in that wedding dress. Preparing to start a life that she would never get to live. She hoped against hope that Dylan and Summer had found that, and that they could do what she had never been allowed to.

Marsha had been so lost in thought that she did not see Jack giving her a suspicious look. He wasn’t surprised to realize that she had been serious. He remembered now that she always tended to talk like some kind of cartoon character or perhaps a factional woman out of a Jane Austen novel. It used to make him sick to his stomach. Right now, it rather annoyed him.

He wanted to argue her point completely. Love was not easy. It was raw and it was painful, and it was heartbreaking. You have to put everything you are on the line. It was something harrowing and terrifying and it shook him to his very core just thinking about it. But Jack couldn’t tell the Disney Princess that, now, could he?

He had to start somewhere else. Somewhere smaller.

“Not around here it isn’t,” he said seriously. “We throw kids like them into the fire and hope they come out with their skin still on,” he continued.

Marsha glanced up at him but did not say a word. She knew better than to interject when he was like this. Brooding and existential. Focused on the past rather than looing forward at the future. He had every right to, she knew that. But she wished he wouldn’t.

“Love just gives ‘em something else to burn,” he added in a faraway voice.

No doubt, he was thinking of his past. Marsha’s eyes softened even as Jack continued to brood. A small smile appeared on her lips as her face shimmered with something unexplainable.

“Love is supposed to burn, Jack.”

Her voice was small, and he looked downwards to catch the tail end of her sentence. What was that quality in her eyes making them shine like that? Jack didn’t know, but he had no intention of looking away.

Still, he fought his instincts, and turned back to the kids. There was something warm inside of him blossoming up from the depths of his stomach. When it reached his chest, it started to burn. Jack shook his head against the irony of that and chalked it up to heartburn and nothing more.

Marsha had been in love so many times. And each time, it burned hotter than the time before. She lost her great love when she was young. The love that she was supposed to build the rest of her life on – just like Jack. But instead of assuming that love died with her fiance, she did not close herself off to the idea. She went out looking for it everywhere, desperate to recreate it.

And to this day, she never had been able to. Because no love felt like another. Yet, she couldn’t say that she had never loved anyone the way that she loved Robbie. She loved everyone that she let into her heart, but it all felt different.

Nonetheless, it burned every time. And right now, she might as well have been on fire.

Tucker and Cindy came bustling through the door behind them, forcing Jack and Marsha apart as the two kids barrelled into the room. And just like that, the moment was broken. The tension faded, Jack’s brooding state lifted, and the smoke cleared.

Like magnets, Jack and Marsha found one another’s side after the disturbance. Tucker was trying to drag Dylan away to play some kind of video game, but before he left Summer’s side, he gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek that Cindy instantly began to make fun of.

Jack gave a breathy chuckle and shook his head. “Lucky kids,” he mumbled beneath his breath.

Marsha heard what he said, but couldn’t quite believe it. “What?”

Raising an eyebrow and looking over at her, Jack steeled his face. He knew she heard it, but that didn’t mean that he had to admit to anything.

“I said yucky kids,” he deadpanned, and Marsha had to fight off a knowing smile. “PDA. Gross. Hope they get cooties.”

Finally, Marsha laughed. Once for the joke and once for Jack’s comedic inability to be honest about his feelings.

“For somebody who does so much of it” she gave him a sharp look before pushing herself off the wall. “You’re a terrible liar.”

As she walked away, Jack felt himself watching with a smirk on his face. No, it wasn’t a smirk. It was a smile. A real one. He assumed that the burning he felt came from her. From standing too close to her flame. But she was gone now, and he continued to burn.

Well, he thought to himself, trying to wipe away his smile. Maybe he had some hope for his future.

Jack stood there in his own head for a few minutes until he realized that he had really done it now. He had seen Marsha a few times today and never managed to say what he really meant to say to her. It had caused him such turmoil that he hadn’t been able to focus since the last time he saw her. And now he had let her walk away again.

Before he could lose his nerve this time, Jack marched off after her and tried to quiet his head. Maybe if he didn’t think about it, he couldn’t chicken out. He had to go into fight or flight mode, and maybe this time he would actually fight.

By the time he caught her, Marsha was fiddling with her keys at the door to her room. Jack was glad to have found her before she could disappear, because if he had to actually knock on her door in order to get this over with, he knew that it’d just never happen.

Marsha looked up when she realized that she was being approached, and didn’t even have time to wonder what Jack was doing here – looking so flushed and panicked – after having just seen him a few minutes ago.

“Listen, I’m going to say this, and I’m going to say it fast,” he held up a hand, almost as if he was preparing to scold her in some way.

Marsha turned her head to stare at Jack, who was standing to her right, but she did not square her body yet as she held her key in the lock on her door and stared on with wide, expectant eyes.

“We couldn’t have done any of this without you,” he stated firmly.

Jack realized that perhaps the best way to do this was to just state the facts. If things were unemotional, he wouldn’t feel as though he needed to take his honesty to any unstable lengths.

Once Marsha realized that he was verbally offering her a bouquet of flowers, she left her key in the door and turned to look at him.

“You knew what had to be done way before I did, and you did it without a second thought,” he went on, his voice still sounding harsh and practical. “You made those kids a team, and you made me into their leader. Hell, you made this entire project what it is. You–” Jack tried to go on, but his voice hitched in his throat when he finally saw past his words and into her eyes.

She was so beautiful. It caught him off guard every damn time. Her eyes were so wide and pure, such a lovely colour, and so expressive. Her hair fell so perfectly over her shoulders, her lips were always an alluring colour, she smelled so nice. He always knew all of this in the back of his head, but he had never really let himself consider it.

And Jack knew that he couldn’t do this if he was talking to Marsha. He had to be sharing facts with Miss Holloway, his colleague. He couldn’t be sharing his feelings with Marsha, his…his what? His friend? The object of his flirtation? His saviour?

“You did more for us…for…for me…” Jack continuously changed up his wording as he realized that he needed to be truthful, and he began to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. “…than anyone here. You are the only reason that any of us made it out alive.”

And she was so much more than that. She was the reason that he felt even remotely okay with sticking around through all the chaos these last weeks. She was the force that kept him going. She was the source of the life that had been brought back to him. She was the proof that he could feel things. She had brought him back to life.

Furthermore, she was responsible for the pang in his chest. The longing in his eyes. The tension in his hands. The stirring in his stomach. The desire in his very being. She was everything. Of course, he couldn’t tell her any of that.

“You never stopped trying, you never gave up, you never let anything stop you from doing what you knew you had to do in order to keep the kids safe, to make them into a real team, and to…to make me who I really am, again.”

Jack paused, shaking his head for fear that he sounded stupid.

“I guess I’m trying to say…” he shook his head, looking for the words. “I owe you one, Holloway.”

Marsha didn’t say anything, and Jack was beginning to hear his words. They didn’t sound like him. Instead, they sounded like some blithering idiot straight out of a fairy tale.

“God, is that corny, or what?” He muttered, taking a breath. “Maybe I would’ve been better off with the flowers.”

Marsha smiled and shook her head, stepping closer to him. Jack’s heart rate instantly skyrocketed when he realized she was coming towards him, and he did not know why. She certainly was making no move to kiss him passionately, which was what his initial instincts had told him. Instead, he was surprised to feel her slink her arms around his waist and pull him into a hug.

This was new. He did not hug women. He picked them up in bars and took them to bed, he made passionate love to them and sent them on their way. He did not want to be hugged by women. But right here, right now, it felt pretty good. In fact, of all the way that the two of them could have released the two weeks worth of tension pent up between them, this was the best way he could currently think of. And god knows he had been dreaming of many more ways.

Jack physically let out a sigh of relief – one that felt as though it had been brewing for decades – and he let the feeling of her arms around him, and the scent of her perfume engulf him.

He knew that when it came to her, he was never going to be any less than enough. He could attempt to poor his heart out and fail miserably, and it would still be enough.

“Don’t mention it,” Marsha finally said, as they pulled away only far enough to be able to look into one another’s eyes.

Their arms remained firmly placed around the other’s waists.

“I’m sure you’ll get me back sometime,” she teased.

Jack shut his eyes and pressed his lips to her forehead peacefully, letting out another sigh now that all was said and done. In the end, he always realized that he had been nervous for no reason at all, but that never seemed to console him the next time a nail-biting event rolled around where she was involved.

“Yeah,” he muttered under his breath as they dropped their arms and stepped away from each other.

That was all he needed to say, that was all that he had came for. It was late, they were both feeling emotional, and Jack knew that he needed to put some distance between them. He had taken a big step, nearly a leap right over their fine line tonight, and they needed time to come back from that.

“Alright,” he nodded in satisfaction, “get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

The minute she disappeared behind her door, his arms longed for her.

Monday, May 1, 2006 – 8:00am

While the kids had been off at school for their first days, the adults of Area 52 were busier than ever.

The corridors were abuzz early today, but things managed to feel oddly peaceful. Jack rounded a corner with his hands in his pockets to see Marsha just leaving her room. No lab coat yet, her hair is pretty and curled, she’s wearing pink.

“Woah,” he teases over the din of the hallway, catching her eye with a smile. “Cindy leaves base for one day and you’re stealing her colour?”

Marsha’s eyes had initially widened at his tone, but she quickly waved him away with a scoff and a smile. Naturally, they accompanied one another to the cafeteria, but Jack was not under the impression that she would be sticking around for breakfast – she never did.

“Cut her some slack,” she responded, her shoulder brushing against Jack’s as they turned a corner. “She’s gotten much better at sharing.”

“She’ll have to,” Jack continued in a sarcastic tone. “But between you and me,” he paused in the doorway to the cafeteria so that he could lean forward and speak to her low and teasing. “She’s got some serious competition,” Jack finished with wink before pushing the doors open and letting her walk through.

On her way past, Marsha gave him a roll of her eyes, but couldn’t fight off the grin. The more time she spent with Jack and the easier that their conversation and their flirting became, the warmer she felt.

Jack trailed her all the way to the back of the room where she started making herself a tea. He leaned back against the counter as she stirred, glancing sidelong at the three packets of sugar that she had just dumped into the concoction.

“Jesus,” he whispered under his breath, furrowing his eyebrows. “You’re having a sugar rush for breakfast this morning?”

Marsha continued to smirk. This was not the first time that Jack had teased her for her sugar intake, specifically in her tea.

She finished stirring and peered up at him with a thin grin. “You take whiskey in your coffee, I take sugar in my tea,” she arched a brow as Jack feigned innocence. “You tell me which is worse?”

Jack was impressed. He hadn’t realized that she had noticed that. To be fair, he hadn’t made any coffee’s Irish since the week before last. He was a changed man, now. He took his whiskey neat and straight up. No need to hide it throughout the day. Frankly, he was impressed that she’d never said anything. Surely, she had just been itching to use his alcoholic tendencies against him during some of their arguments that first week.

Marsha was in a rush, so she smirked in Jack’s face, and he offered up a breathy laugh before watching her leave the room with her steaming cup of tea. Even after she left, he couldn’t shake the smile.

Soon enough, he found himself a seat at an empty table, and Connor was sliding in across from him working on slices of an apple that he was dipping in some kind of caramel sauce.

Jack scoffed. “You and Holloway,” he muttered. “What’s with needing so much sugar with breakfast?”

Connor shrugged, chewing on his apple. “What’s wrong with a little sugar?”

“You’re both going to wake up with diabetes one of these days.”

“Yeah,” Connor looked away, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Speaking of her,’ he began, “do you make a habit of walking girls to breakfast?”

“Don’t start,” Jack waved him away, unfolding a newspaper that he was only pretending to read. “It’s not like that. She’s not even my type, you know that.”

“It’s been twenty years, Jackie,” Connor taunted, knowing that he hated the nickname. “Maybe your type has changed. Maybe you’ve grown up.”

Jack eyed him sharply over his paper. “Not likely.”

“Fine,” Connor leaned back in his chair. “What is your type, then?”

Jack paused for a moment, considering this. A few weeks ago, he would have had a solid, confident answer. Now, he didn’t know.

“Less sugar, more silence,” he deadpanned.

Connor arched a brow, taking a sip of his own sugary coffee. “She laughs at your jokes,” he said in a quieter voice, as if sharing a secret that Jack wouldn’t want anyone else to hear. “You might be her type.”

Jack shook his head with a breathy laugh. If only Connor knew. No, he was not her type. But she liked him anyways. Maybe it was more of a miracle than anything else.

“Yeah,” he muttered sarcastically. “She’s got a high pain tolerance.”

The quips and the tone told Connor that he was safer dropping this one and letting Jack brood by himself. He knew his brother. Even after this many years, he knew his brother. He liked this woman, and it was likely in spite of himself, hence the reluctance to admit it.

After breakfast, Dr. Grant and some selected members of the Special Projects team had been observing Jack and Marsha, as they attempted to evaluate their powers together. What with Jack redeveloping his, and Marsha finally revealing hers, they had much work to do in terms of where they were at.

It appeared as though Jack had regained his abilities to a tee, but he needed to work on his control as he had never really been able to do so after the Gamma-13 had increased his strength. Speed was one thing he would always have a handle over, but the strength was new. It was nothing comparable to Cindy, that was for sure, but certainly superhuman.

As far as Marsha was concerned, she had never really been able to train or experiment with her powers thus far, as she had always internalized her parents telling her to cover them up and pretend that they don’t exist at all. With only a bit of prodding from Jack, she revealed that she could also release the sonic air blasts from her hands, in similar fashion to Concussion’s blasts.

The training ended abruptly when the cafeteria announced they were serving tater tots, and everyone ran off for lunch.

Afterwards, Jack found himself bored. Without the kids, without training, without a fight to pick, he wandered rather aimlessly until he wound up pushing open a familiar office door without so much as a knock.

Marsha sat behind her desk flipping through a file with her glasses perched low on her desk, her pen dancing over the bottom of the pages.

“Busy?” Jack chimed, tossing a little ball back and forth in his hands like an aimless child looking for some entertainment.

Marsha glanced up to see who it was, but quickly went back to work. “Only if you’re here to complain about something,” she muttered.

Jack shook his head, looking around himself before wandering over to her sofa and plopping himself down. Within seconds, his feet were up on her coffee table, and he was throwing the ball up into the air and catching it – up and down, up and down.

“Don’t you have an office?” Marsha quipped good-naturedly, not really upset at all to see him here.

“I do,” Jack shrugged. “Not much for company, though.”

She smiled down at her documents, signing her name with a swoop.

“How do you think they’re doing?” Jack said after a lull, referring to the kids. “Nobody forgot any lunch money? Bullies kept at bay?”

Her writing ceased as Marsha looked up to make proper conversation. She stared at Jack for a moment before giving him a real smile. “Irene packed their lunches,” she reminded him, referring to the lady from the cafeteria. “And I think that after dealing with you two weeks ago, they can handle any bully that comes their way.”

“Ouch,” Jack winced, clutching at his chest as if she had wounded him.

“When’s your family set to arrive?” Marsha asked.

Georgia and Susan – Jack’s mother and sister – were coming all the way to Area 52 to pick up Connor sometime this afternoon.

“About an hour,” Jack responded, glancing down at his watch. “Remind me to be on my best behaviour.”

“That I can do,” Marsha smiled, returning to her paperwork but gesturing at him with her pen. “Get your feet off my coffee table.”

With a sigh and an overdramatic huff, Jack dropped his feet back down to the ground. She wasn’t much fun, but he still hung around for another fifteen minutes just to bug her.

3:00pm

Later in the day, while the children were riding the shuttle on the way back home, excited to tell the adults about their schooldays, Jack’s family arrived at Area 52.

Georgia and Susan shared tearful a reunion with Connor in a private conference room that Grant had provided them. After giving them enough time to catch up, Jack joined them with Dr. Grant and Miss Holloway in tow.

“Mom,” Jack greeted Georgia with a kiss on her cheek, before gesturing behind himself. “You remember–”

“Edwin,” Georgia scoffed and moved to hug the familiar scientist. “You haven’t changed a bit,” she said warmly.

She had always liked him – he seemed like a good advocate for her children.

“Au contraire,” Dr. Grant stood up a bit straighter and harboured a smile. “Like a fine wine, Mrs. Shepard,” he joked, and Jack rolled his eyes.

He reached behind himself and placed a hand on Marsha’s waist, pulling her forward in order to make an introduction.

“This is Marsha,” Jack said, while Dr. Grant moved to the side and began talking to Susan about how the last time he saw her, she was barely twenty-five.

“Marsha,” Georgia took her warmly by the hands and pulled her closer so that they could have a conversation. “The psychologist,” she cast a sneaky glance backwards to tease her son. “My goodness, I’ve heard so much about you.”

Marsha’s eyes widened and she tentatively looked back at Jack. She had no idea when he would have had the time to talk about her to his mother.

“No, she hasn’t,” Jack said quickly, with a scowl that his mother waved away.

“I sure have,” Georgia ratted him out. “You’re even more beautiful than I pictured. My goodness, look at those eyes, just gorgeous,” she went on and on as a blush rose to Marsha’s cheeks that cost her a chuckle from Jack.

While Marsha and his mother were making conversation, Dr. Grant was paged away, and Jack went to stand with his siblings. He certainly hadn’t been expecting a family reunion any time soon, nor the fact that it would feature a newcomer, but a sickening kind of warmth had settled nicely in his stomach over it.

Minutes later, four children came barreling into the room, and even more introductions were handed out. Instantly, Georgia fell in love with all four of them, as came to feel as though she had managed to gain four adoptive grandchildren. One could never have enough.

Eventually, the room calmed to a melodic chatter as everyone got to know each other. Georgia was chatting with Marsha, Dylan, and Cindy, while Tucker and Summer told Connor all about their newest endeavours on the cheerleading and soccer teams, respectively.

Jack stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the table with Susan to his right as they both took in the scene.

“Look at you,” she nudged him in the side with a smile as she watched her brother become the person that he was meant to be. “Who are you and what have you done with my noncommittal little brother?”

She hadn’t seen much of him over the years, but every reunion had been the same. He was bitter, he was sarcastic, he was arrogant, and he was stuck in the past. He couldn’t move on from what had happened to Connor and the rest of his team, and he let his hatred lead him through life for decades.

Now, he had blossomed into a responsible, caring, family man. Though the sarcasm and arrogance may have lingered, the bitterness was finally gone. And Susan could see her brother become lighter as the weight of guilt had been lifted off his shoulders.

“I guess time heals all wounds, hey?” She added, and Jack finally glanced at her with an indiscernible look on his face.

He shook his head and looked back out at the family that he had created for himself. Scratch that. The family that had found himself. The five people that had been thrown together unceremoniously without a choice that had made themselves into a family that had accepted him as one of them.

“Time had nothing to do with it,” he said surely.

The siblings lingered in comfortable silence for a moment before Jack nodded out towards Marsha, who was still talking to Georgia, who seemed to have taken a liking to her.

“You’ll like her a lot,” Jack said.

Susan and Marsha had been introduced briefly in between Georgia hogging up all of her time, but they hadn’t gotten the opportunity to really talk yet.

“She’s smart.”

Susan eyed him knowingly. Not only was she his older sister, but she wasn’t blind. She could see precisely what was going on there.

“You like her a lot,” she said in retaliation, and Jack gave her a scolding look as he waved her away. Susan just laughed and shoved him good-naturedly. “You can’t even deny it!”

“Yeah,” Jack pretended to glance at the clock behind them. “When are you guys leaving?”

Susan and Marsha got to know each other better while Georgia and Connor both said their goodbyes to the children. They were glad to have gotten to know Connor while he was here and disappointed to see him go, but excited that he was leaving to follow his dreams.

“Okay well, you’ve got my number,” Susan said to Marsha as they bid farewell. Jack was right, they got along wonderfully. “Call me any time, and if you’re ever in the Bay Area, let me know.”

Marsha nodded. “It was really nice meeting you.”

“You too,” Susan said, before turning to her brother. “I’ll call you when we get in.”

Georgia pulled Marsha aside for a hug and a farewell as Connor approached his brother.

“Thanks for bringing me back, Jackie,” he teased warmly, before the brothers shared a hug.

“Knock ‘em dead out there,” Jack said with a hand still on Connor’s shoulder. “Don’t forget us all when you’re some big shot NASA rocket scientist.”

The brothers backed away when Georgia came in to plant a kiss on her youngest child’s cheek. “You be good,” she said to him, pointing a finger up under his chin.

“Marsha,” Connor said, approaching the woman. “Thank you for everything, really,” he said, before they also shared a hug.

“It was my pleasure,” she said, emotion threatening to waver her voice. “If you need anything, you can always call me.”

And just like that, Georgia, Susan, and Connor Shepard were disappearing behind the doors of the elevator that would take them down to the parkade, while the team of six remaining Zenith Team members waved goodbye.

The children wasted no time once those doors were closed, and tears were wiped.

“Anybody else starving?” Tucker was the first to speak. They had been through some very long days, and dinner was certainly calling their name. When the rest of the group agreed verbally, Tucker took off running down the hallway. “Race you there!” He called.

“No fair!” Summer chanted, barreling after him.

“Hey!” Cindy cried, “you got a head start!”

And just like that, the children were gone, too.

Marsha peered at Jack sidelong and watched him chuckle and shake his head at the children’s familiar antics. They were about to fall into a brand-new pattern with Phase Two. But Marsha felt a familiar tug of worry inside of her.

She had talked to Dr. Grant earlier and he mentioned that Jack had signed the waiver that officially decreed him free of obligation to Area 52. That had been an inevitable process, but when he also told her that according to Larraby, Jack was not sure what he wanted to do yet, and was still perhaps leaning towards cutting bait and leaving the facility now that he could legally do so, Marsha began to dread whatever was coming next.

She only hoped he would have the decency to warn her.

Deep down, she knew that he wasn’t about to leave them high and dry, but she also knew that it had been his goal right off the bat, and they had not really been able to have a conversation about whether or not his intentions had changed.

Change.

That was such a big word today. Things were changing at such rapid paces, even Marsha felt as though she couldn’t keep up. One minute the children were finishing initiation, the next they were fighting their first real battle, and now they were heading back out into the world. Things with them were in a constant state of changing.

Things with her and Jack had changed from night to day. They were no longer up all night arguing brutally with one another, they were pleasant. They were friendly, they were familiar, they were flirtatious in a very different way now. They were domestic.

The program was changing, schedules were changing, intentions were changing, what else was changing? Marsha didn’t want to ask him. She didn’t want to ask if his plans had changed, because she was terrified to hear him say that the answer was no.

She knew they couldn’t do this without him. The team would fall apart without their commander, even now that they stood on more solid footing. But beyond that, she would be highly affected by his departure.

Marsha did not know how she truly felt about the man inside, perhaps there was not a word for it. Not one that she was willing to use, anyways. She didn’t even know what they were to each other, but she knew she did not want to lose it.

They were a lot of things. Bickering partners. Colleagues. Delicate friends. Jack and Marsha, Zenith team coaches. Rarely did they get to be just a man and a woman. And right now, that’s all she wanted them to be. A man and a woman with no jobs, no children to worry about, no powers, and no world resting on their shoulders. Maybe that wasn’t written in the stars.

“Well,” she started, hoping to get some semblance of an answer even if she was not willing to ask her question yet. “Everything seems to be changing pretty quickly.”

Jack glanced at Marsha from where he stood beside her. There seemed to be more to her question than what the surface offered. He wondered if she was asking just how much had changed. Enough to change his plans? Enough to make another change in terms of their fine line? He didn’t know what she wanted to know, and he didn’t know how he could provide her with the answers that he knew she wanted.

Still, he looked at her as if she had changed him.

Jack’s time at Area 52 so far had been riddled with unwanted flashbacks and tough memories. He had disappointed new faces, and the old ones were just a cruel reminder of his past disappointments. But was it all bad?

He knew the answer, even if he was unwilling to admit to it. There still wasn’t much that would prompt Jack to do it all over again. To live through the good times and the bad with his old team and watch them fade away before his very eyes, unable to save them.

But if it meant meeting those kids who would give him something to live for again, he might just do it. If it meant he got to finish what he started. To make a group of kids into a team and a family, and do better the second time around. For that, he would do it all over again. If it meant that he got to see Dr. Grant achieve his dreams, to see Marsha smile at him like he put the stars in the sky, he’d do it all over again.

Put him back in 1986. Have him lose his team. Have him suffer for decades to come and never really heal from the trauma. He’d do it all over again to experience what he got to these past couple weeks. To hear those laughs. To see that smile. To feel the love. He would do it all over again.

“Well, you know…” he began with a shrug. “All good things must come to an end.”

Marsha felt her heart sink, but not as far as she had been expecting. His words were rather telling, or so she decided. If he was referencing his time here as a whole, then he was revealing the fact that his plans had not changed. But maybe had had not picked up on her subtext? Maybe he was merely referring to Phase One being over. She just didn’t know.

“Do they?” She asked tentatively, no particular emotion to her voice.

She was slightly teasing, slightly flirtatious, slightly casual, and slightly serious.

Jack stared down at her with something unreadable in his eyes. She was such a believer. She believed in the good everywhere. In everyone. And the problem with her was that she was an oblivious believer. Certain things, she would believe no matter how many times someone tried to tell her it simply wasn’t true. Other things she would need to hear spelled out straight from somebody’s mouth before she believed it. This was one of those things.

I love you, but I have to go. He could have just said that. I love you, and I’m going to stay. He could have just said that, too. That was his problem, he did not know which of those options was the lie.

“Usually,” he said instead. “Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it while it lasts.”

Marsha raised her eyebrows with a smirk. That didn’t sound much like him. “How optimistic of you.”

Jack didn’t know much, certainly not what was coming next. But in this one moment, staring into her eyes, he knew that he wanted to stay here forever. Maybe someday.

“So, what do we do now?” Marsha asked, more broadly than anything.

She did not mean right now in this moment and they both knew that. She was asking what came next, and Jack couldn’t answer that in the way that he knew she wanted him to.

He took in a breath. “We wait.”

“Wait?”

There were so many things that he could have said. Like how he hoped that one day he could be led by her hand wherever they went. But for now, he couldn’t bear the thought of that. No wonder he couldn’t manage to reveal her truest feelings to her. He had no idea what they were. How could the idea of remaining at Area 52 both excite and traumatize him?

Maybe one day, he would figure that out. For now, he was just going to keep looking at her.

“Wait and see what tomorrow brings.”

[thatzenithnerd]

Zoom: The Second Coming

Chapter 14: The Sweet Hereafter

Saturday, April 29th, 2006 – 12:05pm

As soon as they had gotten back to Area 52 following the defeat of Concussion and the return of Connor, the entire team made their way to the eastern sector. Connor was surprised to see everything looking so similar to the way that it had decades ago, and even ran into some rather dumbfounded-looking familiar faces on his way.

General Larraby was preparing for a briefing later tonight so that everything could be disclosed, and plans for the future could be made.

Jack did not want to leave his brother alone, but he needed a shower. He supposed that Marsha was the best person he could possibly leave Connor with in order to get him set up with some street clothes and a shower of his own, and Jack felt okay about heading back to his room where he proceeded to peel off his suit and crack just about every bone in his back.

As he stood in the warm shower, scrubbing off the dust and dirt that he had been left with following the battle, Jack realized that he was forgetting to worry about something. The dread in the back of his head had been hollow. He tried to remember what it is that he was supposed to be stressing about, until he realized that there was nothing.

His powers were back, his brother was back, his family was safe. Larraby was quelled for now, there was no imminent threat, the Gamma-13 certainly would not be necessary now. There was nothing to worry about. Nothing except his next move, of course.

Meanwhile, Marsha instructed the kids to go and do the same as Jack, so they returned to their living quarters and changed out of their suits, showered themselves off, while she tried to welcome Connor as cautiously as possible.

“There’s a few unused rooms just a couple hallways down,” she began, hours ago now. “You can get yourself situated in one for now while you decide what you’re going to do.”

She wasn’t HR, but she would rather make the decisions and be the one to guide Connor through this process than one of the emotionless robots from that department – no offence to them. He needed care and concern right now, not more numbness.

“Decide?” Connor raised an eyebrow.

Was he in the right place? The government was not known for giving people a choice. They liked to know where all their war machines were at.

“Yeah, well…” Marsha began softly, leading them down the hallway and around a few corners. “We would love to have you around, of course, but your participation on the team is not mandatory. Besides, you can still be a part of it and live off-base, I’m sure you’re eager to get back to your family.”

Connor knew he should have told her then and there.

Ever since emerging from the vortex as himself again, he felt empty inside. In a way that he had not quite felt before. It wasn’t even emotional – it was purely physical. With that emptiness came some pretty strong feelings, of course, but he felt the emptiness in its most literal sense. He didn’t have to test it out to know that he was powerless.

Whatever Jack had done had saved his life and reversed the effects of the harmful radiation, but it had cost him his powers. But Marsha was just so excited – and so damn talkative – that he bit his tongue. That could come later.

He nodded along, feeling a sense of peace despite the loss of his powers. He almost felt relieved. They were such a burden for him, and they had been his entire life, now he no longer needed to be responsible for them.

“My family…” he began warily.

Connor was aware that he had been gone for a long time, anything could have happened.

“Are they…” he did not want to ask, so he trailed off instead.

Marsha knew what he was asking, and luckily, she had done her research. In the few days before actually bringing him on board, Marsha had been so excited to work with Jack that she learned everything about him. She knew that preparation would be key in order to work with such a key figure like him, but unfortunately memorizing his family tree was not the kind of preparation that would have benefitted her. She should have brushed up on how to deal with narcissists. Still, it helped her for this conversation with Connor – who she was beginning to learn wasn’t much like his younger brother.

“Your…um,” she swallowed, knowing that she should start with the bad and get it out of the way before she told him the rest. “Your father passed a long time ago now.”

Connor’s eyes widened, but a part of him was not surprised. He was sorry that he couldn’t have been there for the rest of his family, but his father was so distant anyways, they hadn’t seen or heard from him since he took off for Nevada when him and Jack were young.

 “Your Mother’s in Sacramento, Susan’s in San Francisco,” Marsha continued.

“Still?” He said with a smile.

His older sister Susan had left home and got married young, with dreams of the big city. He hoped that her and David had lasted, they had been a good match.

Marsha returned the smile. She only knew where Susan and her family were now, she had no idea how long they had been there.

“She’s got three kids.”

Connor’s smile widened as he realized that he was an uncle. Saddened to hear that he had missed out on all of it, but grateful to be back. As Marsha used a key to unlock a door and ushered them inside, Connor wondered if maybe he had any more nieces or nephews.

“What about you and Jack?” He asked, taking a look around inside the room – it was just as he remembered it. “You guys have any kids?”

They would make good parents of teenagers, he was guessing, just based on how he had seen them with Summer and Dylan. Hell, maybe they had kids on the team. It would make sense, for two people with latent metahuman abilities to give birth to kids with powers. Connor was realizing now just how little he knew, and how much he had to learn.

“Oh,” Marsha blinked as a bit of colour rushed to her face.

Connor winced, wondering if it was maybe a sore spot.

“No, we’re not…um, we don’t…” she tried to stutter her way through telling Connor that her and Jack were not married. Far from it, in fact. “I mean we’re just…we just work together.”

Now, Connor understood. He was pleased to hear that there was not some big controversy surrounding the topic, but instead that he had merely misjudged his brother’s affiliation with this friendly woman.

“Oh,” Connor responded in similar fashion, trying to fight off the smile that was threatening his face.

Based on her reaction as well as the way in which he had observed her interacting with Jack, the two of them were far more than colleagues, but merely unwilling to admit that yet. Knowing his brother, he wouldn’t know what to do with such feelings anyways.

“I’m sorry, I just assumed.”

Marsha waved him away with a shake of her head. “It’s fine,” she said, feeling nervous inside for some reason.

The good kind of nervous. Butterflies.

“There should be a change of clothes in the dresser, why don’t you get comfortable and meet everyone back in the lounge, I’m sure Jack’s going to want to catch you up on everything, and I have some tests I’d like to run if you’re okay with it.”

That was an understatement. She had a million tests that she was just dying to run. And right now, she was doing her best not to drag him down to the lab and start learning from him.

Connor Shepard had been trapped in an alternate dimension for the better part of two decades, it could mean multiple breakthroughs in the field of metahuman physiological research, and she was excited to get started. But she knew that there were far more important things that would take precedence. Jack had twenty years worth of catching up to do with his brother, first and foremost.

“Here,” she added with a smile, handing him a pager. “I’m number six if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Marsha,” Connor said, taking the decide from her hands before she excused herself from the room.

He liked her a lot, already. There was something so familiar to him about her, and he recognized the fact that he felt as though they were a lot alike. More than that, he felt as though he knew her in another life. He could see why Jack liked her.

Connor got himself cleaned up and attempted to come to terms with the fact that he was no longer trapped in a living hell, fighting every day just to stay alive. He was out of limbo, back in the real world. And he had been granted twenty years of immortality, at that. He was still a twenty-two-year-old as far as everything went, with the entire world at his feet. After he got some pretty extensive therapy, he assumed.

In the meantime, the team had met back in the lounge. It was still early in the day, and Jack wanted to get a debrief out of the way so that they could go about their Saturday howsoever they pleased.

For their first ever celebratory debrief, he suggested that they all make themselves an ice cream sundae to enjoy while they talked, and by the time Marsha arrived to join them, he had one waiting for her just the way she liked it. She wouldn’t usually eat dessert before lunch, but today was special.

“Alright, we got everybody?” Jack stood at the head of the coffee table while his team was sprawled out in the living room area.

Typically, they would be doing this in a briefing room, but there wasn’t a free one at the moment and they were impromptu as it was.

“Cindy, come on, you don’t need that many sprinkles,” he called to the young girl who was still at the back of the room, covering her ice cream in enough sprinkles to drown the entire thing.

She sighed but bounded over, wedging herself in between Tucker and Summer on the couch, and Jack clapped his hands together once before getting started.

“That was some good work out there, you guys,” he began. “Really. Especially without any real field practice or preparation, it was a great place to start. How did it feel?”

The kids looked at each other, and Marsha watched from a standing position as she leaned against the wall. She wore her heart in her eyes as she stared at Jack, adoring him from afar. She loved watching him grow into the leader that the children needed, she loved watching him find the passion in what they were doing.

“Actually…” Dylan began, looking at his team members, who nodded him on. “Really good.”

“Yeah,” the rest of them added. “After we got over the first try, of course,” Summer squeezed Cindy’s shoulder.

“It was really cool to be able to put everything we’ve learned together and actually start using some of it,” Tucker nodded.

“It was fun to be outside!” Cindy added with a childish giggle.

The team debriefed a bit, but anyone could see that they were anxious to get to lunch. Connor joined them after a bit to sit in on the debrief, and Jack turned the floor over to him eventually.

“Well, Connor,” he clapped the man on the back of the shoulder. “Why don’t you tell the guys a little bit about yourself?”

“Okay,” he said with a nervous smile, clasping his hands together as he stepped up to the plate. “Well, I…I’m Connor,” he began, meeting Marsha’s reassuring eyes from across the room. “I guess I’m twenty-two years old, I…well, as you saw, I shoot sonic blasts,” he nodded, quite certain that the rest of the team was familiar with the type of powers that he possessed. “I was taking classes at, uh, San Joaquin Delta College in Stockton. Not really sure what I’ll do now.”

“What were you studying?” Summer asked. She was an academic at heart.

Connor’s eyes lit up. So was he. “Physics,” he responded jovially. “That’s all they offered at the community college, but I always hoped to transfer to a bigger university with better programs once I could afford it.”

That part was true. Before the incident, the original Zenith Team’s public relations manager had planned on setting them up to step out into the public eye, and do away with their alter egos. The fame and fortune that would come with meet and greets, lectures, and expos, on top of the comic book royalties, would hopefully help Connor reach his academic goals.

“Always wanted to be an astrophysicist.”

“Oh, that’s awesome,” Dylan said with an impressed laugh – he never had any plans beyond the pizza joint.

“Yeah, dude, that’s really cool,” Tucker added.

The gang continued to chat for a bit, but Jack noticed a certain someone looking as though they were standing on thin ice over against the wall. Marsha was being as polite and patient as possible, but he knew very well that she was just itching to get Connor down to the lab.

She had tests to run, evaluations to complete, assessments to fill out, and that probably should have all been done before it got too late, so that they could enjoy the rest of the Saturday without any worries.

“Alright,” Jack’s voice cut the light chatter in the room as he pushed himself up out of the seat that he had casually taken while everyone was getting to know each other. “You kids need to eat some real lunch,” he began, alluding to the fact that they’d had a very eventful day with no nourishment. “And you need to get to the lab before this one’s eyes pop out of her skull,” he added to Connor, thumbing towards Marsha who could have sworn she was waiting patiently.

She gave him a look and waved him away, but the kids all took off quickly in the direction of the cafeteria. Unbeknownst to them, Dr. Grant and a few others from the Special Projects team were waiting with cake and more ice cream – to be eaten after lunch – in order to celebrate their victory.

“I won’t keep him long,” Marsha said to Jack as she placed a hand on Connor’s back briefly to lead him out of the room.

“Hey,” Jack shrugged, knowing that he could very easily go visit in the lab if they ended up there longer than he could keep himself occupied for. “You’re the boss.”

Not even an hour later, Miss Holloway could conclude that Connor Shepard had lost his powers, with no hope of rehabilitation. Both vortexes had managed to alter his very genome, depleting him of any and all latent metahuman abilities. Because of this, the rest of the tests were rather inconclusive, and no real data could be obtained for research purposes. Thanks to the surplus of time they suddenly had, Marsha and Connor were able to sit down for a chat in her office.

She had put on her psychiatrist hat and helped Connor talk through each and every one of his feelings regarding his current situation. The initial incident, the loss of his team, the time had had spent banished to the alternate dimension, his relationship with Jack, and the feelings of guilt that came with everything. They even talked about the troubles he faced during childhood, the strained relationship he had with his father, and the new reality of his powerless state.

By the end of their conversation, Connor felt substantially better about his circumstances. She had also done a great job of insisting that though the leadership at Area 52 had been unsafe in the past, thus resulting in the Gamma-13 incident, things had changed. With Jack the powerful commander of the Zenith Team, and her and Dr. Grant heading the Special Projects team, they could keep Larraby in his place and prevent the use of any radiation in the future.

The two of them were then obliged to talk about what might come next. Connor had plenty of options, it would all come down to what he wanted to do.

“So,” Marsha smiled, shifting in her chair slightly. “What do you think?”

“I–” Connor began, pausing to give it some real thought. “I don’t really see myself being able to do much here without my powers. Do you?”

Marsha nodded. She wanted to be honest with him, but also wanted to keep him around. Especially for Jack’s sake.

“Well,” she took in a breath. “We could always use you as an advisor. A coach.”

“Yeah,” Connor shrugged. “I don’t know. I want to do more than that.”

“So, what about going back to college?”

“I mean, that’s the goal, I guess. It’ll probably be a while before I get anywhere with a program that I’m actually interested in, though.”

“Well, in terms of astrophysics, what’s your end goal?” Marsha inquired.

Connor leaned forward in his seat. Previously, he tended to avoid talking about his goals, as they seemed so far-fetched and laughable. He had the grades to get where he needed to be, and drive was never a problem, but funds certainly were.

“I’ve always wanted to work for NASA. I know it sounds stupid. I guess, either there or back here in the lab would be the end goal.”

Marsha smiled. “It doesn’t sound stupid at all,” she insisted. He reminded her of herself, back in the day.

Connor groaned a little. “Oh, come on,” he responded. “I go to community college. I spent all my savings on just that. Kids like me don’t wind up at places like NASA. Or this place, for that matter.”

“You know,” Marsha swallowed, “I had nothing to my name when I graduated. But I left for Stanford and never looked back. I knew it was going to be a financial struggle and that I probably should have just gone to the community college nearby, but I couldn’t bring myself to pass up the opportunity after I got accepted.” Connor was intrigued. “With grades like yours, you could be Ivy League. Are you interested in any specific schools?”

Shrugging again, Connor felt himself becoming more comfortable with this conversation as he learned that Marsha too came from humble beginnings, and now sat in one of the more powerful positions in the Area 52 research lab.

“I always planned on heading east. Georgetown, MIT, Hamilton, anywhere, really.”

He thought about his old friend Melissa Griffin, from back in Lathrop. She had a younger brother Matt who always wanted to go to Georgetown. He was about five years younger than Connor had been, but they used to work together at the Blockbuster and had become close ever in Connor’s final years. Matt had received his acceptance to Georgetown in D.C. right before Connor’s incident, and he could only assume that he had accomplished that goal and might still be living there.

“Had a friend who went to Georgetown.”

Marsha smiled. Georgetown was actually one of the more convenient universities that he could have taken interest in. Back when she was living in Virginia and working at the Pentagon, she frequently spoke with the head of the psychology department at Georgetown and often gave guest lectures. She used to do it all for free, and therefore believed that she may be owed a favour or two.

“Why don’t you let me talk to Dr. Grant and see what we can come up with?” Marsha said with a curious smile, knowing that they could pull some strings between the two of them and muster up enough funds to send Connor off to the university of his dreams.

A smart young man like that was going to be the future of astrophysics, anyways. NASA needed his brain.

From there, they went their separate ways.

Marsha put her files together and went to chat with Dr. Grant about what they could do for Connor. The kids were running around the facility on a sugar high that Jack didn’t even bother trying to control, and Connor went back and had some lunch with his brother, who was just finally sitting down himself.

“Well,” Jack sighed, settling into his seat. “What’d you learn?” Connor and Marsha hadn’t been to long in the lab, Jack wondered what sort of conclusions they had come to.

“I, uh…” Connor began, unsure how to bring up the sensitive topic of losing his powers. “I got nothing, man,” he finished, casting his arms out to the sides.

Jack shook his head. “What do you mean?”

“I felt it as soon as I…” Connor tried to explain – he did not want Jack to blame himself for the destruction of his powers. “As soon as I was back. Ran the tests with Marsha and sure enough, I’ve got nothing left.”

Jack opened his mouth, but could not find the words. He did not quite know what to make of his brother’s revelation.

“It’s okay though,” Connor was quick to reassure him. “We talked through it all. Actually, a weight off the shoulders after…well, after everything.”

Jack could understand that. He nodded, but still did not know what to say. He had never been good with the heavier subject matter.

“I like her, by the way,” Connor decided to change the subject.

He truly was okay with the vanquishing of his powers, and he was ready to move on to the more important things in life. Such as reconnecting with his brother and learning a little bit about what his life was like now. It was almost thrilling to know that he no longer had the weight of his powers tethering him to being one thing. Connor had never wanted to be a famous superhero. He wanted to use his brain, not his brawn. That brawn had done enough damage for one lifetime.

“Marsha,” he clarified, “I think she’s great.”

Connor wanted to get this out, without having to ask his brother what was really going on. He sensed that there was something between the two of them – hell, he thought they were married – but knew that Jack would not want to talk about it unless he had already come to terms with his own feelings which, obviously, he hadn’t. Connor had to wonder how long his brother had even known Marsha.

“Yeah,” Jack began to smirk, thinking of the woman that merely thirteen days ago, he did not know. “She’s, uh…” he struggled against the right words to really describe her. “She’s something.”

“The kids are great, too,” Connor added.

The four of them had instantly accepted him as one of them the minute that he came out of the vortex, even if mere seconds ago, he had been trying to kill them all.

“It’s a great team you’ve got here.”

“Family,” Jack corrected him with a nod.

He was still getting used to that concept.

“You could be a part of it, if you wanted to.”

Connor nodded. “I know,” he said.

Jack could tell based on the tone of voice his brother was taking that he would not be sticking around. He couldn’t blame him for that. Jack had a hard enough time here in this familiar hellscape with his own grief and guilt. He couldn’t imagine how bad it must be for his brother.

“But what good am I, here?” Connor shrugged. “No powers, no degree, no interest in this particular field.”

“Well, you’ve got the combat experience. You could help with training.”

“That’s what they have you for,” Connor smiled. “Besides, I need to feel like I’m accomplishing something. And I know I can do that somewhere that I can actually put myself to good use. I want to make a name for myself without the powers. Without the comic books or the press or the fantasy.”

Jack nodded. He knew this. He also knew that his older brother was brilliant.

“I know,” he clasped his hands together in front of him on the table that they shared. “Anyways, speaking of family,” he attempted to change the subject, not wanting to stress Connor out – he had only been back on earth for a few hours, anyways. “Mom and Susan are coming down on Monday.”

“They are?” Connor’s smile widened as he felt a pang of excitement within him.

“Yep,” Jack nodded, taking a bite of his salad. “You’ve got to get back home somehow,” he shrugged. “Besides, they haven’t been down here since that one week back in ’84. We’ll give them a tour.”

Connor was pleased to hear this. Previously, he had been expecting a bus, shuttle, or even plane to jet him back to Stockton. A trip with his mother and sister was going to be much better than that.

Instinctually, he worried that they would not want to see him, or perhaps be upset with him for what he had done, but then he remembered his conversation with Marsha. She reassured him that nobody in his family blamed him for what happened, they all knew the truth of the radiation’s effects.

Jack and Connor had spent the next bit of the day joined at the hip. The former filled his older brother in on everything new within the family, in terms of current events, and everything in between. They took a trip down to the experimental lab after lunch so that Connor could chat with Dr. Grant about his post secondary options.

Apparently, between recommendations from himself and Marsha – two world renowned scientists – he could be off to Georgetown by September. While the two of them talked, Jack wandered around the room with his hands shoved into his pockets.

There were pictures in frames all over the walls, and Jack occupied himself by taking in a particular group of them over by the eastern wall, which commemorated the establishment of the Zenith branch of the Special Projects team. The pictures were grainy and obviously from about ten years ago, but he recognized Dr. Grant in just about all of them, big groups of them all, Marsha here and there.

He didn’t recognize her at first, her hair was shorter and curlier, her glasses were perched on the top of her head, almost unnoticeable. It was the smile and the eyes that made her unmissable.

Jack thought of her now and realized that he had not seen her around in hours. She was busy, he was busy, that was to be expected, but he hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to her one on one since the dance, really, and they certainly had much to discuss. Now, with the world at his feet, he felt as though there was nothing he couldn’t do. That thank you should come easily after everything else today.

            Either way, Connor and Grant finished up quickly, and then Connor was off using Jack’s makeshift office to send off emails and make phone calls for another few hours.

5:15pm

Just before dinner, the team found themselves back in the lounge. Connor was still tied up elsewhere, and Marsha was nowhere to be found, but the rest of them were in casual conversation here and there. Summer and Tucker were putting their brains together as they worked on some school projects, Dylan was playing solitaire on his laptop, and Cindy was bouncing up and down in her seat on the couch next to Jack, who was attempting to read the latest Sports Illustrated article about the FIFA updates.

It became clear very soon that the girl was not intending on just sitting there quietly, but Jack did his best to multitask.

“Did you know that I’m going to be in a play?” She asked, and Jack only raised an eyebrow as he kept his gaze down on the magazine.

“That so?”

“Yep,” she bounced. “I get to play Rapunzel. She’s a princess, you know.”

“That’s great, Cindy,” he deadpanned, rather sarcastically.

Luckily, the girl did not pick up on that much, lest she throw one of her infamous tantrums.

“I have to pretend like I’m in love,” Cindy’s voice took on a singsong-like tone as she romanticised her role in the first grade’s rendition of the classic fairy tale.

“Mmhm,” the man nodded again, less than half listening.

“Mr. Shepard,” Cindy attempted to force his attention once and for all.

Believe it or not, she did have a point to the conversation.

“What does it feel like to fall in love?”

Now, Jack’s eyebrows shot so far up his forehead that they almost got lost in his hairline. “What makes you think I know?” He gaped, still sarcastically.

He had been with a lot of women in his time, he certainly had dated a lot. He fell in love when he was a teenager and never again. He hadn’t let himself since. And the concept had always been surprisingly easy to avoid.

“Because you’re so old!” Cindy scrunched her face up in surprise. “You must have fallen in love at least once before.”

“I can’t help you there, kid.”

Jack could remember that he loved Alex intensely and with all his heart. He couldn’t remember what that felt like. When she died, he tried to forget all of it while simultaneously dwelling on it until it was all he could think about. But no, he couldn’t put himself back in that moment and recall how it felt to fall in love. He wouldn’t let himself.

“How am I supposed to act like I’m in love if I’ve never been in love and you aren’t telling me what it feels like?” Cindy squealed, and Jack could not handle that particular whine to her voice, so he shut his magazine and shifted in his seat impatiently.

“It–” he began sharply, before modifying his tone, “I don’t know, Cindy,” Jack attempted, but ultimately failed.

He supposed that he could offer some insight into this particular subject if he really wanted to, but certainly had no idea how to put such thoughts into words. He had never been any good at that.

“Fireworks?” Cindy rattled off. “Butterflies?”

It felt like coming alive again. After years and years of living in a robotic, numb, dormant state.

“Rainbows,” he spat out, and wasn’t even sure where that word had come from.

Recently, Jack realized that his tongue had been doing a lot of talking before his brain had any idea what was going on. It tended to render him far more honest. Of course, now he realized he was going to have to back up his claim.

“What?” Cindy shook her head, her blonde pigtails bobbing up and down as she did so.

Jack sighed and shrugged harshly. “It feels like…” he winced, shifting in his seat, “…like seeing rainbows.”

For such a beautiful statement, he sure sounded like he was talking with a gun to his head. Even Cindy picked up on his misleading tone.

“Rainbows?”

“Yep,” Jack doubled down, opening the magazine back up so that he could finish his article. “The world just becomes a little bit more colourful.”

Cindy seemed to accept this for the time being, and pondered the concept in silence as she pictured herself with a long blonde wig on a big stage, waving from a tower window.

“Hey, speaking of rainbows,” Jack looked up again from his magazine. “Anyone seen Miss Holloway since the briefing?”

He hadn’t really been asking for any reason in particular, other than the fact that it was Saturday, and she shouldn’t have been off doing work, she should have been sitting with them enjoying the leisure of the weekend. If anyone asked, of course, he’d say it was work-related. Deep down, he figured that she was probably one of those people who worked through the weekend.

“I think he means speaking of falling in love,” Tucker murmured under his breath, and him and Summer began to chuckle from their position at the coffee table.

Jack did not hear what had been said, but he was quite positive that he did not want the boy to repeat whatever he had mumbled. Instead, he gave the both of them a stony look before glancing at Dylan, who had shrugged his shoulders.

“I saw her and Grant a bit earlier, they looked busy though.”

Jack nodded, but the taunts were not over with.

“Why,” Summer teased, “do you miss her?”

Jack instantly shot her a threatening look, and Summer bit her tongue quickly. “Grow up,” he mocked right back, but could not give any sort of explanation otherwise as to why he was asking.

Thankfully, Connor chose this exact moment to reappear in the room and gestured to the crowd.

“Hey, guys,” he nodded, and the rest of the team murmured their greetings. “Jack, you ready to go?”

“Couldn’t be more ready,” he said sarcastically, before pushing himself off the couch and moving to leave the room. “We’ll be back after dinner, and we can watch that movie thing,” Jack mentioned casually before exiting.

The kids had asked if they could watch some superhero movie that came out last year and was finally available on DVD. In the meantime, Jack and Connor had some Saturday night rounds to make.

Dr. Grant, Colin, Jason, Denise, and a couple new faces that Jack had to be introduced to were indeed already set up in the western staff room, pouring drinks, snacking, listening to music, and reveling in the end of another long day. Jack was welcomed gracefully, and Connor’s presence sparked a few hugs, a near-tearful reunion, and some pleasant introductions.

Jack and Grant caught up about the effects of Connor’s return and how Larraby was good and ready to act like a dog running away with his tail between his legs, Connor and Colin became reacquainted, and the rest of the crowd was listening to Jason tell some characteristically raunchy story.

“Hey, where’s Holloway?” Jack asked again, this time of Dr. Grant.

Even the man himself began to wonder why he cared so much, but figured that there was no harm in admitting that he kind of liked her. They were friends, weren’t they? He was allowed to wonder where his friends were, especially when that friend was absent from all of her usual places.

“Oh, she called it a day a while ago,” Grant nodded, recalling her heading back to her room after dinner. “Said she was waiting for a phone call or something like that.”

That was true, Marsha had been on the phone with her brother back in Charleston for over an hour. The two of them had been working on reconnecting and actually attempting to cultivate their relationship for a few years now, but the distance often made that hard. Regardless, Marsha was pleased by it. Her older sister was even farther and usually so busy with work and her family that they only talked when either Marsha needed legal advice or Cathy needed psychiatric advice. Her younger sister was still in Manhattan, which felt further still, and far too busy dancing on Broadway to worry about calling her outcast sister.

After her phone call, though, Marsha contemplated where she would spend the rest of her night. She did not know what Jack’s plan was, but she figured that he would be with Connor. The two of them had two decades worth of catching up to do, and she certainly did not want to intrude on that. The kids were probably in the lounge, and they had bonding of their own to do after such a monumental day. Marsha did not want to step on anybody’s toes, so she changed out of her tight, uncomfortable work clothes, and threw on something more comfortable, figuring that she would inevitably wind up in the staff room with her rowdy friends tonight.

Marha would have preferred to end the evening in the lounge with Jack and Connor and the kids. She would love to say that she fit in perfectly somewhere now that the team was formed and Concussion was defeated, but she did not feel as though that were true. She hadn’t even really gotten the chance to talk to Jack about what her powers would mean in terms of her involvement in and position on the team yet, she figured that could all be done next week. Besides, she was still government and the rest of them were Zenith. Jack’s.

If she had known that Jack had been asking around for her, she might have considered hanging around, or at least making an appearance. Frankly she figured that he would be far too preoccupied tonight to worry about making any kind of conversation with her. Besides, now that he was top dog around here again – powers and all – he would probably be looking elsewhere for his companionship. He was Captain Zoom again, and Captain Zoom was well above geeky scientists. Hell, Jack Shepard was well above geeky scientists.

Marsha was content, though. All she had ever wanted was to see Jack accept his true possibility, absolve himself of the guilt that was holding him back, and put his heart and soul into leading the new Zenith Team. He was doing that now. He was put back together, he got his brother back, he was passionate about the team, and the children were safe. She could rest easy knowing that.

6:45pm

The sodas were poured, the disk was buffering, the popcorn was popped, the pajamas were on, and all that was missing was one member of their team. While the children were getting settled in, fighting over seats on the couches and who would get to hold the bowls of snacks, Jack was off in search of their missing piece.

Marsha was surprised to hear knocking on her door, and even more surprised to see Jack standing there, all by his lonesome. He was still in his clothes from earlier today, it looked like he was just coming from dinner.

Jack felt a strange sense of déjà vu as she leaned in her doorway and the fluorescent light above her flickered in a way that lit up her face. Damn, Jack thought to himself, did they ever need to change that lightbulb.

“Hey,” he began casually, a smile blossoming on his face as he took in the sight of her.

She had changed out of her work clothes but Jack had to observe the fact that she still looked professional. Instead of pajama pants or sweats, her loungewear consisted of loose slacks. Officewear. At least it wasn’t a tight pencil skirt, and she had changed from her blouse into a white Born to Run Springsteen t-shirt.

“What are you doing?” He teased, knowing full well that she would have no idea what he was talking about. “We’re all waiting on you.”

Marsha shook her head, but maintained a smile on her face knowing that she was being teased in some way, she just wasn’t sure how yet. “Who is?”

“The whole team, come on,” Jack waved her over, and Marsha let the door close behind her as she curiously followed him down the hallway. “It’s movie night.”

Before long, the whole team had finally settled in, and the movie played on. It was some kids’ flick that Jack had no real interest in, but he was happy to just bask in the moment. He knew that Larraby and Grant had every intention of debuting the team to the public sometime soon, and Jack figured that after that happened, little peaceful moments like this one might become far and few between.

He wasn’t particularly for or opposed to the idea of going public with the team and scrapping the idea of altar egos, he could see both the harm and the benefit in it. He knew full well that it was an act of greed on the government’s part, but at least this particular act of greed had nothing to do with radiation. Besides, the kids deserved to be celebrated for what they would accomplish with this new team.

Jack tried not to think too hard about all that in this moment, and just let himself find peace in this moment. He stole glances all around himself as the movie played on. Cindy was just enthralled, and her and Tucker kept sharing shocked expressions following the plot twists, or shoving each other around as they laughed along with the comedy. Dylan had awkwardly put his arm around Summer’s shoulders and though it looked uncomfortable at first, they were now cuddled up next to each other.

Connor was snickering at the childish comedy and Jack couldn’t believe that he could merely look across the room and see his older brother, alive and well. Beside him was the hardest person to sneak any glances at, and the one that he most wanted to see. He had casually been resting his arm on the back of the couch, so dangerously close to her body, but he refused to be as awkward as Dylan about the whole thing. Besides, he knew that he would receive at least four funny looks from the rest of the room. So, he kept it safely on the couch and nothing more.

But even from here, he could tell that she smelled as good as usual. He wanted her closer to him. He wanted to be able to rest his arm on her shoulders and pull her towards him until she was snuggled up to his side, and they could finish the movie that way. But no matter how far the two of them had come, something within him prevented such moves from being made. Call it a barrier, call it a fine line, or call it pride, it wasn’t happening.

Of course, Marsha watched the movie in oblivious ignorance, completely unaware of the war that was going on within Jack’s mind, though he sat merely a foot away.

8:15pm

The movie had finished just in time for the adults to get bored.

“Alright everybody,” Jack stood from his seat as the room recovered. “That was some of the worst garbage I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, no offence, Cindy,” Dylan groaned, stretching on the couch. “But that’s the last time we’re letting you choose a movie.”

“Don’t listen to them,” Connor shook his head in a friendly manner, ruffling the little girl’s hair. “I thought it was great.”

“Yeah,” Jack muttered and stood from his seat, folding up a blanket that had been tossed to the floor. “So good that you’re scrambling for the door.”

“As if you’re not right behind me,” Connor quipped back.

They both knew that on a Saturday night, there was more fun to be had after this movie. Jack was fully prepared to leave the kids to their own devices for the rest of the night, eager to find some real adult fun with his buddies in the staff room. But something kept him in this room. He gave a quick glance over his shoulder.

“You go on,” he said, turning back to Connor. “I’ll be down there in a bit.”

He knew that Connor was eagerly anticipating a fun night with old friends, Jack did not want to hold him up. But he was going to try one last time to get a thank you out of himself. He had to.

“Hey,” Tucker piped up suddenly, shaking his team from their tired trance. “You guys wanna glue Dr. Grant’s mouse to his desk?”

Summer shot up in her seat. “Oh,” she interjected. “Let’s tape all his pens and pencils to the walls!”

Jack shook his head with a chuckle as the kids bolted out of the door in the direction of poor Dr. Grant’s office. They loved playing pranks on that old man. Cindy was stuck back in the room, almost having forgotten her stuffed animal.

“Wait for me!” She whined, causing Summer to linger in the doorway.

Still at the back of the room, Marsha was clucking her tongue disapprovingly. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Could be worse,” Jack teased over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Marsha breathed, “they could be sneaking into strip clubs,” she finished, arching an eyebrow.

As Cindy finally trampled by, Jack glanced at Summer with an afterthought. “Hey,” he snapped his fingers in her direction.

Summer’s eyes widened, thinking that he was going to chastise them for their plans.

“He keeps a key in the potted plant beside his office,” Jack nodded, smirking when Summer gave him a look of disbelief. “Just in case it’s locked.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Zoom,” Cindy said with a wave as Summer ushered her out of the room.

“Night, Cindy,” he murmured. “Hey,” he called out, “no more sugar tonight!” Cindy was too far to hear his last demands. Jack shook his head, turning around to glance at the only remaining person in the room. “And you,” he began teasingly, catching her attention. “We need to talk.”

Marsha smiled and made her way back to the living area. She could deal with the rest of the mess in the morning. For now, she made her way to stand before him so that they could make proper conversation. They hadn’t really spoken since everything happened. The end of yesterday and today felt like a blur.

They danced, then shit hit the fan. Jack thought she was against him the whole time, and she revealed that the only thing she’d been hiding are her own powers. They rescued Connor, and spent today sorting through the aftermath separately. They hadn’t had time to say any of the things that needed to be said. To clear the thick air between them.

Marsha stared up at him in such a way that made him weak in the knees, and what Jack really wanted to ask her in that moment was not relevant to the conversation that they actually needed to have. Instead, he kept things relevant.

Pleased but surprised that he had hung back just to talk to her, Marsha assumed that he had better things to do tonight. Like making up for twenty years of lost time with his older brother or drinking his face off with Jason and Colin in the staff room.

After a moment of silence, Jack gave a shrug and peered at her meaningfully. “Why didn’t you tell me you had powers?”

Marsha took in a breath and looked away momentarily, before giving him a truthful look. That was not an easy question to answer.

“I–” she began, but stuttered a bit when she realized that this may be a larger conversation than she was prepared for. “When I was young, people told me that I wasn’t…normal,” she tried to explain without naming any names, but they both knew that she could only be referring to her parents. “They said that if I told anybody, I wouldn’t have any friends, nobody would ever like me, and that it was dangerous.”

“Dangerous?”

Marsha nodded. “They thought that the government was going to come and take me away. That they were going to treat me like some…some alien and kill me or experiment on me.”

Jack winced. His mother had struggled to understand his and Connor’s powers, but she always accepted them for what they were. She was not wary of the Zenith Program. She allowed Jack and Connor to just be normal kids without instilling the fear of god in them.

“My family was…” Marsha continued, clearing her throat. “They were very religious. They said that I was possessed. Touched by the Devil.” She left out the part where they had actually gotten a priest to come and try to exorcise her when she first started showing signs of her powers, despite nobody in her family being Catholic.

Nodding his head when she fell quiet, Jack had to assume that the accident that claimed her parents’ life was not the only trauma found in Marsha’s past. There was a particular look in her eyes that he knew well. Secrets. Pain that she didn’t wish to share with anybody else.

“So, you came here,” he sighed, understanding.

Marsha gave a nod. “I came here because I knew they were wrong,” she continued. “And I wanted to make things better for people in my position. Kids, specifically. But I couldn’t…” she raised her eyes to meet his. “It was never safe to…” Giving up on her sentence, Marsha shook her head in frustration. “I just wanted to be really sure that…” she trailed off.

“That you could trust me,” Jack nodded, filling in the blanks.

He could have been offended that she didn’t think he would support her, or angry with her for not coming forward sooner when she could have been of more use to him, but he didn’t care about any of that. For the first time since he’d known her, he understood where she was coming from.

Often, Jack thought to himself that he wished he had done a better job of hiding his own powers as a kid. So that nobody would ever notice them, and he wouldn’t have been whisked away to the big secret life at Area 52. He never would have met his team, and he never would have had to live with the pain of losing them.

He thought for a second about how things would have been if Marsha’s parents’ fears had come true and the government had taken a notice to her. She would have been dragged to Area 52 as a teenager, right when his original team was at their strongest. She would have died with the rest of them.

“That was a good call,” he said dryly, chasing away that pointless hypothetical.

He then imagined her the only one here. Coming forward when she first started working here as a young twenty-something. The only person at the facility with powers. She probably would have been tested on. Poked and prodded at or even tried for treason for ever even bothering to hide those powers while working for the military.

As Jack imagined a million different versions of this world, he stared into Marsha’s blue eyes that looked pale and almost white under the fluorescent lights. Something lingered in the air that neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

Jack still had a choice to make. The team was back, initiation was complete, the imminent threat was obliterated. Jack’s job was done. His contract was up, his bank account was half a million dollars richer, and he was a free man once again. He could still walk away. Go back to his empty life in Long Beach and live out the rest of his days leisurely working on cars, watching the Zenith Team from afar. And that would be perfectly legal.

Connor wasn’t sticking around, his family was back in California, the kids would be spending less time at the facility while they finished school until they could set them up with a permanent academic system on base after the summer, Jack had nothing keeping him here.

To bring up that particular concept now would only end up in a fight of some kind, and they both knew that. Marsha did not want to count all her chickens before they were hatched, and she was suddenly hesitant to know his plans at all.

She wondered, too, if the fact that her possessing powers had changed things. She was just like him now, minus the experience. She was no longer just one of the co-trainers, she was an adult with powers. She was a part of the team. Hell, she could lead the team. That would make things even easier for him to walk away from, knowing that the kids were in truly capable hands.

For now, they could appreciate the time that they had together. As friends. Not just bickering colleagues, but cautious friends existing on a very slippery slope. Marsha would not ask, and he would not tell, that’s how they would pass their time. Living in limbo. In the sweet hereafter, but one with a potential expiry date. Jack didn’t know what he was going to do, but he knew that he couldn’t do anything without thanking her. Unfortunately, the words still burned in his throat whenever he thought about it.

He knew the problem now. He couldn’t just thank her. He would inevitably end up saying more than that, because she deserved more than that. He had alluded the other day to how essential she was for the team and how she could have changed things for him years ago. But he had yet to reveal how much she meant to him. How much she had changed him for good.

“Well, I’ve got to tell you,” Jack choked out, unable to do what he really wanted to.  “I did not see that coming.”

Marsha let out a slight chuckle. “You mean to tell me that I actually managed to take you by surprise?”

“Sweetheart,” Jack looked down at her with a smirk, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You have been taking me by surprise since the day we met.”

She wasn’t quite sure what he had meant by that, but she figured that he was making fun of her in some way. Likely because she had been used as bait in a green dress to lure him in and he was then to find out that she actually spent the majority of her time in high-collared blouses, a lab coat, and glasses.

Marsha waved his comment off and decided to change the subject. “The children did really great today,” she expressed, pulling her eyebrows together genuinely. “Looks like your training paid off after all.”

There was something mockingly condescending about the tone of her last few words that Jack could simply not ignore. He was going to merely tuck it away for later use, until he saw the particular way in which she was looking at him. After picking up on it, it was go time.

“And what is that look for?” He demanded.

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Come on, I know you better than that,” Jack crossed his arms.

Truthfully, he already knew the four little words that she wanted to say, but intended on prodding at her a little bit first.

“You’ve got something to say, spit it out.”

Marsha’s lips blossomed into a smile as she blinked away her laughter and attempted to insist that she had no further comments. “I have nothing to say–”

“You know you want to say it,” Jack stated, and their eyes met again.

Now, Marsha realized that he already knew precisely what she was thinking. There was no use in denying it now.

“Fine,” she cocked her head defiantly. “I told you so.”

“Mmhm,” Jack nodded sarcastically. “There it is. And what exactly did you tell me?”

Marsha gave him a telling look. She had no interest in an argument tonight, even if it was a good-natured one, only egged on by Jack’s teasing. It had been a long day, and she would rather sneak off to a smoky room with her friends than bicker with an impossibly aggravating man, no matter how much fun it could be.

“You know precisely what I told you.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“All of it,” Marsha said quickly, with a sly smile. “I told you all of it.”

Jack’s eyes crinkled as he stared down at her. Marsha felt her stomach lurching. In a good way. Only occasionally did he look at her in this particular way, but it had been more often lately. It made her positively queasy. Again, in a good way.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, you did.”

Marsha swallowed but kept her face steady as she stared back up at him. Neither of them knew what to do with a tender moment. They were both out of practice and hardened by their pasts. Just two awkward adults who were attempting to navigate some uncertain, very unfamiliar waters. They were bound to be rusty.

Before she could ruin the moment by saying something cheesy or taking things too far, Marsha snapped herself out of it and shook her head.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” She teased, knowing that they were both heading off to pay the staff room a visit.

Jack arched an eyebrow and cast an arm towards the door. “After you.”

Marsha smirked as she walked by, and Jack followed her out into the hallway where they walked slowly and side by side.

“So,” Marsha spoke up, realizing that there was something that she had been meaning to ask him.

Something that might actually be easy to answer, rather than all the other questions she had circulating in her mind at the moment.

“What do you think about Grant’s idea to publicize the team?”

Jack stood up straighter, rebooting his brain as he now attempted some actual professional conversation. He took in a breath and shook his head slightly. Truth be told, he was not sure how he felt about it.

“I mean, it was always in the works,” he explained. “I guess it makes sense.”

Marsha peered up at him. “Well, how do you feel about stepping into the spotlight?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I can’t really imagine that.”

Back in the day, he had been excited about the notion of being famous. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Comics are one thing, but putting yourself out there like that? I don’t know.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to shy away from attention,” Marsha teased, and Jack cracked another smile.

“Easy, now.”

“There’s probably an upside to anonymity,” she continued. “Even if it means missing out on the millions of fans.”

“I don’t need fans,” Jack waved her away. “The books are enough for me – I don’t want the entire world seeing who I am and what I do.”

Marsha could understand that, and the notion was on par with everything else she knew about Jack. Still, she couldn’t help but poke a little fun at herself.

“You don’t need fans, then what am I doing here?”

“You’re the exception,” Jack gave her a good-natured wink.

He enjoyed how easily they could fall into such casual conversation. The flirting came so naturally.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Sure,” Jack shrugged, more brutal honesty falling unfiltered from his lips. “I want you to know who I am,” he added, stopping.

Marsha mimicked his lack of movement and turned to him, peered up with her eyes wide.

“Nobody else, just you,” Jack added.

As Marsha nodded, a silence fell upon them. This time, it wasn’t so comfortable. This silence was tense, it was anticipatory, and it was exhilarating. Jack was no sociopath – he knew how to read social cues. And this particular moment was screaming at him to kiss her.

They were alone in an empty hallway under dimmed lighting for the first time all day, newly reconciled after a fight, and he had just said something so uncharacteristically romantic. All signs pointed towards closing the gap between them and kissing her lips tenderly. Even if they could be caught by someone stumbling back to their quarters.

But there was that unnameable thing inside of him. The thing that stopped him. The thing that might always stop him. The thing that caused him to clear his throat awkwardly and step backwards – almost in a panic – when he realized that they were standing far too close to one another.

“Well, I, uh…” he began, rubbing the back of his neck.

Marsha swallowed and saw him attempting to back track. He wasn’t ready. Maybe she wasn’t either. She did not hold it against him. Giving him an easy smile, she let him off the hook once again.

“Come on,” Marsha said, continuing to make her way down the hallway. “They’re probably wondering where we are.”

Jack nodded. He was all at once relieved and disappointed to see her throw the moment away. He knew that she was doing him a favour and desperately trying to prevent things from getting awkward, but he just didn’t know what he wanted. He knew how he felt, he didn’t know what he wanted. And that was no good for her.

He let her remain a few steps ahead of him as he followed her down the hallway with the phantom touch of her lips against his as if in another universe – once where he wasn’t damaged and afraid of real intimacy – he had acted on his feelings.

Screw the kiss, he suddenly thought, beating himself over the head. He couldn’t even thank her, let alone kiss her. Man, oh, man, was he screwed.

He was beginning to come to terms with the reality of his situation where she was concerned. He might never be able to act on his feelings, nor his truest desires. Every day – for the first time in decades – stood a woman before him with whom he could see himself truly learning to get along with. He enjoyed her in nearly every way, and under any normal circumstances, they could have had a shot at one another. A real shot, like two normal people.

Unfortunately, thirty years ago, the government had thrown him and four others into a program that was supposed to protect them, and instead decided to experiment on them.

While the American government used their military in an attempt to create war machines out of five children already marginalized for being earthly anomalies, Jack and his team were sacrificed all for the sake of a feeble attempt to get ahead in the middle of the Cold War.

The Zenith Program offered him love and safety and connection, and then it ripped that all away from him. Now, Jack was left with a gaping hole in his heart where his girl used to be. Where his brothers used to be. His sweetheart. And that hole had scarred over, but remained empty.

Slowly but surely, it was filled. With Cindy and her childish ways. With Summer and her old soul. Dylan’s trustworthy character. Tucker’s need for a proper father figure. Could there be room for a beautiful woman with eyes bluer than the sky, who saw him for what he really was even when he couldn’t? Of course there was room, but did he really want her in there? Was that just too dangerous?

He had been stuck with a certain perspective on life for decades now, and he wasn’t sure that he could change enough to be good for someone in a romantic sense. The horrors had prevented him from living the life that he really wanted for himself. He hadn’t just suffered the adverse effects of radiation experimentation, he suffered every emotional, physical, and personal effect that he still felt today. Effects that prevented him from giving them children a real chance, even if he knew he could love them if he let himself. Effects that prevented him from being able to trust Dr. Grant and the team at Area 52 in order to truly make this place his home again.

And as mad as he was about that and the ways that it had robbed him of a proper future, in this moment, he was most angered by the effects that had made him incapable of letting the woman that had mere seconds ago been standing before him into his heart. Past his defences, closer beside him, and under his care.

Logically, he knew that he should trust her, he knew that he should be able to come to terms with his developing feelings for her, and he should let things progress as they otherwise naturally would. It was the trauma that was preventing him from being capable of all of that. And he was going to end up hurting her.

Even now that things were relatively good, they weren’t perfect, and he would be irresponsible to pretend that they were. He had powers, he still lacked the amount of power that he would need in order to truly be comfortable and safe here. And so long as he was answering to anybody, he still could not let himself fully open up and trust anyone here. Unfortunately, that might always include her.

He had spent the better part of his life disavowing Area 52, declaring it the reason for his downfalls, and outwardly cursing the entire place. Imagine his consternation when the one woman that had him feeling something for the first time in decades wound up being knee-deep in the place.

One day, Jack might be able to figure things out with her, but for right now, he could not seem to navigate his mind. He knew that he was attracted to her, he knew that he enjoyed being around her, he knew that he would do anything to protect her, he knew that he wanted her in just about every way somebody could want another person. But in his mind, that still wasn’t enough.

If she came at him right here, right now, stood before him, and confessed her undying love, he knew very well that he might confess right back, and everything would fall into place. But he also knew that it was not that simple. He also knew that he was not about to reveal anything on his own accord, nor was she.

So here they would linger, trapped in purgatory.

[thatzenithnerd]

Original Zenith Team

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