Fandom: 24
Characters: Jack Bauer, Renee Walker
Pairings: Jack/Renee
Rating: PG
Summary: In an alternate S8, Jack and Renee have some confessions to make once everything is over.
Spoilers: Up to the first half of 8x17 (see author's note)
Warnings: None
Challenges: written for the Awesome Ladies Ficathon for the prompt, "24, Renee Walker" with a preference for AU.
Originally written: June 24, 2010
Author's Note: For this AU, I've included canon up to 8x17.  However, instead of Jack and Renee returning to his apartment, Renee convinced Jack to go back to CTU before they arrived at his apartment, to find any remaining conspirators in President Hassan's death.  At some point, this involved going after people in the Russian Embassy, but with US government permission and no legal ramifications (the explanation for which, I leave up to the reader's imagination as this was commentfic :D).

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Renee had only just peeled off her jacket and poured herself a glass of water when the buzzer in her apartment sounded.  The question of who it might be crossed her mind, but almost as quickly, the answer came to her with absolute certainty.

"Who is it?" she asked, only because not asking would give him something else to get after her about.

"It's Jack. Can I come up?" His tone was gruff, abrupt. Yeah, not pleased with her.

She didn't answer, just pressed the button to allow him in and had the door open for him as soon as he stepped off the elevator.

"You left before I got out of my debriefing," he said, eyes watching her with that critical, measuring look he got when he was trying to read someone's reaction, and she turned away.

"I wasn't sure how long you'd be, and I don't remember you asking me to stay," she said, her tone terse.

"You didn't think I'd want to talk to you after the embassy invasion?" he asked.

"You don't want to talk, Jack. You want to make sure I'm not going off the deep end again."

She could hear him take a step closer, the sound of the heavy step behind her momentarily making her hair stand on end. For a moment, she almost anticipated a hand on her arm, yanking her around, or arms wrapping around her waist, vodka-scented breath ghosting past her face and making her skin crawl.

"I want to make sure you're okay, there's a difference." The gruffness in his tone was somehow more comforting than obvious sympathy.

"I'm fine, Jack. It wasn't the first time someone's put me in a chokehold, or the first time I've had a gun to my head," she snapped.

When he answers after a beat, his voice is more gentle than she expected. "It was the first time since last night, though."

She could feel bile rising in her throat as the memories assaulted her even faster, and she struggled to pull her armour in around her. She'd fallen apart in front of Jack before; she wouldn't do it again. She'd spent too much time in the previous 24 hours trying to get her own self-respect back, much less prove to Jack that she could keep going, even when he'd wanted to leave after President Hassan's death. When he had been too wounded by their failure to keep going.

"I'm fine, Jack," she said, hating the little crack in her voice. "You don't need to be here."

He stroked his hand lightly over her shoulder, and she tried not to tense. "I want to be here." There was a moment before he spoke again, and this time the crack was in his voice. "When I walked in and I saw Pavel with the gun to your head--"

Renee closed her eyes, tried not to listen to the little voice inside her that urged her to turn around, wrap herself in his embrace.

She failed, miserably.

Turning toward him, she wrapped her arms around him, felt his arms wrap around her, tightly.

"I could have lost you," he said, his voice hoarse, and she felt a lump rise in her throat. "If I'd been a minute too late and I'd walked in to see--"

"I thought I'd lost you," she said, interrupting before he could voice that nightmare scenario. "At the docks. When I saw you lying there and you weren't moving, I was so scared I was too late."

She could feel his hand stroking her hair, the stubble on his cheeks scratching her skin. Somehow, though the memory of the feeling of Vlad's stubbled chin against her skin floated through the back of her memory, it couldn't break through the warmth of holding him, and being held.

"Please don't make my mistakes, Renee," Jack said after a moment. "Don't shut me out. I don't want to lose you like that, either."

She swallowed, stomach tightening as the thought of opening herself up to that kind of risk--the risk of sharing everything, feeling vulnerable, naked again--held her in terror.

But if she didn't, she'd lose him just the same. She'd walked into the walls Jack had put up two years ago; if she made him do the same thing, eventually he'd stop trying to cross that barrier and walk away. She'd lose him, like she'd lost everyone else. Like he'd lost everyone, until he'd decided to make that change.

She didn't answer him with words; nothing seemed quite right. Instead, she pulled back, turned her head to find his lips with hers, opening her mouth to him and tasting him in return. It was all the answer either of them needed, for now.