A/N: This is chapter one my horrible first attempt at a fanfiction. It is a Jack/Renee fic. While the pairing is not popular yet, someday they will rule the world! *insert evil laugh here* Anyway, I think an author is supposed to do one of these things:

*DISCLAIMER*: I do not pwn like the producers of 24, therefore I do not own the show. My pitiful attempts at 24 writing are chicken scratch compared to their awesome work. *Tell me your secrets Kiefer Sutherland!* (No one saw that).

Anyway, enjoy! XD (Written from Renee's POV, btw.)

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What a pity party. Larry asks me to do the debrief for Jack. His voice is tinged with scorn as he asks me. Technically, I'm fired, and shouldn't have to listen to him. I want to say "no", but I nod and walk away. He thinks I'm falling for Jack. There may be reasons why he feels that way, but that doesn't mean he has to be so angry about it. What do I think? I don't know who or what I can believe anymore. Not after today.

Jack is dying. There, I said it. It's a bitter truth. Life is never fair, especially to someone whose actions saved thousands of lives, but couldn't salvage his own. Macer explained an experimental treatment. But he turned it down as soon as she mentioned the daughter, Kim. I wish he would've taken the chance. He doesn't want to risk someone else's life for his own, even though he deserves it for all the times he's laid his own life on the line for someone else. I want to convince him to have the treatment, but there's no changing Jack's mind once it's set.

I walk quickly down the hallway, stopping outside of the room Larry directed me to. I take a deep breath. I open the door and step in. And there he is. He's putting on a shirt when he turns and sees me. I gasp. Scars run deep canyons down his chest and back. Strange, but he's scarred on the inside as well.

"Sorry," he says quickly as he tugs his white t-shirt down.

I step closer to him and say, "Don't be."

He looks at me, trying to read my face. His blue-gray eyes cloud a little. That's about as little a show of emotion as you would expect from Jack Bauer. Somehow, he keeps himself hidden from view, behind a maze of walls and shadows. As for me, I'm not doing a good job of keeping my feelings in check.

"How do you do it?" I ask. He blinks.

"What? D-do what?"

I bite my lip and spill everything I am thinking. "Keep so calm even with all this against you. You--you never show any sadness or fear. Why? What twisted masquerade, a mask that hides you inside. So many walls built to lock in any sign of something--something that makes you human."

He is silent. He blinks again, but something about his expression tells me my words are hitting home.

"Who is the man inside the mask?" I finish.

I suddenly realize we are nose-to-nose, my eyes drilling deep holes into his. I look away, my heart rising in my throat. He is dying. And I'm asking if he feels anything. He's dying. Jack looks down to the floor.

"Aren't you afraid, Renee?" he asks softly.

I am startled. I didn't expect him to say that. I lift his chin up with my hand, delicately, as if he might break. His eyes are dark and bitter.

I stammer, "What is there to hide, Jack?"

He shifts, and takes my hand from its resting place under his chin.

Jack replies, "What if, beneath this mask, is someone you don't want to know? A deranged, soulless maniac who doesn't care who dies as long as the ends are to his liking. Completely devoid of emotion. Someone who'd shoot anyone if their death would save two other lives. Who didn't care when his wife died. Who--"

I stop him, my finger pressed firmly to his lips. He looks at me. A look I've never seen him give. An expression so hopeless, I'm taken aback. I slowly withdraw my finger from his lips. Maybe I've thought that before, that he was heartless. But now, standing here, watching him, there's no doubt that he has a heart.

He is about to turn away. I grasp his shoulders, turning him back around to face me. His eyes are closed. When he opens them, he whispers, "R-Renee.."

This is the man beneath the mask. He was human. He was scared, broken, alone. I want to comfort him, but I don't know how I can. I don't know the words to say. But I need to say something, anything.

I finally put my thoughts into words, "This is the man under the surface."

He watches me intently.

"I'm staring at a man who is brave. Who fights even when everything is against him. I'm looking at a man who is strong, still standing even as a tornado wreaks havoc inside."

His eyes are beginning to well up with tears. That's when I realize mine have already started falling like a river. I shyly take his shirt and pull it gently off him. He obliges, wondering what in heaven or hell I am doing. I run my hand down his chest, feeling every grooved scar along the way. He winces. I continue softly, "I'm looking at a man alone. He who carries sad memories like invisible wounds. Who is putting a calm face to a torrent of fear. Who is slipping away into the dark."

He touches my hand, willing me to stop. Jack wants to withdraw again into the masquerade, the facade of the man I see now. But I have to finish, I haven't finished. I don't know what to say next, but I know I'm not done.

I place my hand on his chest, and feel his heart beating quickly. My fingers spread out across his chest. I take a deep breath. This is so hard. I don't want to hurt him, but I guess it's too late for that. A single tear falls down his cheek. This isn't the Jack Bauer I knew. My hand relaxes, still feeling his heart underneath his skin. Surprisingly, he doesn't turn away, shake me off. He doesn't say a word.

I finish, "I'm feeling a man with passion. He wants so desperately to do what's right, to make himself count for something. I feel a soul underneath this mask. A heart so burdened, but beautiful. A living, breathing heart..." My voice trails off into crying.

I feel him tremble. He wraps his arms around me. My head rests on his chest now, my hand still on his heart. Never have I felt so safe, so warm. He rubs his arms up and down my back. I'm sobbing. I wish I wasn't. I have to be strong. Strong for him. I hear Jack's voice, softly saying, "I want to be free."

I looked up at him. "You can't let go, Jack. Don't give up. Never let go."

He just holds me tighter. I pull myself closer to his face. I put my other hand on his cheek, trying to soothe him somehow. It feels natural when his lips touch mine. He pulls away quickly. His eyes search mine, asking for permission. I kiss him again, and this time he doesn't stop. I can't breathe, but I don't care. My hand is still on his heart. His lips aren't soft, but they are so real. I love the way he kisses me. It was soft, not violent. It was tender, loving. I wish it would never stop. I don't know how long this moment lasted. Eternity and microsecond would both be accurate descriptions. He ends the kiss abruptly. I look up at him and see love. Well, I guess Larry was right. I've fallen for Jack Bauer. And he is dying. I want him to kiss me again, tell me it's alright. But that's so selfish. I feel horrible. His arms are still wrapped tightly around me. I say, "I'm going to need to debrief you once you're ready."

Jack nods. He lets go of his hold around me. The air in the room is freezing. "Yeah," he says softly.

I ripped the mask away tonight, and it hurt both of us. I can see the wall building again, his face becoming blank--expressionless. Now, this was Jack on the surface, not anything like the man who kissed me. He wipes his face on his arm, and reaches for his shirt. I leave the room, glancing back to see him sitting, eyes trained on the wall opposite. I smother a moan that rises in my throat. Jack is dying, and I gave him hope of love that can never be. Jack is dying, and I've caused him more pain than I can bear. Jack is dying, and I feel like the worst person alive.

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A/N: If you read through to here, thank you so much! I know you probably just wasted 10 minutes of your life, but thank you! Review plz. Help me in my writings. Chapter Two will be up sometime in the near future...