Jul. 5th, 2007

action_antihero: (Cellphone!Jack)
July 17, 2012

Jack winces slightly as one of the medics dabs something on the cut on his forehead that makes it sting even more before applying a butterfly bandage. He hadn't noticed the cut until Bill had pointed it out to him, not that it was large enough to make itself known beyond a small dribble of blood to his temple.

"Here, hold this against that bump at the back of your head," the medic says, passing him a cold gelpack. Jack takes it gratefully, his head pounding front and back. Minor injuries, nothing to worry about, though he knows he might feel differently the next day.

Even though he's all right, there's still a phone call he has to make, though, and as the medic walks away, Jack grabs his cellphone from the desk, quickly finding Michelle's number.

There's still no answer at the house, so he goes over to Chris' cell; no answer there, either. Fuck, she's going to kill him for leaving these messages.

"Hey, sweetheart. I'm okay and CTU is safe. Most of the people here got through it all right. There's still a lot of stuff we have to do, but call me when you get this. Love you, and I'll see you when I get back," he says, flipping the phone shut.

Rubbing his eyes for a moment, Jack wishes he could just get up and leave right now. He's exhausted, not having slept for...fuck, 24 hours? 36 hours? He can't remember the last time he nodded off, even for a few minutes, and it's been days since he had decent sleep.

But there's no time for that; there are still things to be done, pieces of the puzzle that they don't have. He'll get to leave the cleanup to CTU soon enough.

For the moment, though, he has to keep going, or the unanswered questions won't let him sleep anyway.


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October 2007

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