24fanfiction.com

Reviews

Okay, as promised, here’s Tony’s POV. It was a little hard to write without knowing his motive, but hopefully I did a decent job of capturing his emotions without having to explain why he’s doing this.

Once again, I don’t own the characters. If I did, whoever even suggested turning Tony Almeida into an evil psychopath would have been fired on the spot. I do own the lyrics, though, so please do not steal them. I’m not much of a singer so if anyone wants to try to sing my song please comment and I can send you what I envisioned for a tune.

This is probably the last chapter, though I may tweak it after the finale. I also wrote a song that sort of goes with this fanfic, so I will either post the lyrics in this thread or as a separate story. Enjoy and please review if you get the chance. And if you have read spoilers and know Tony’s motive, please don’t share that here….I am trying with all my might to stay away.

---

 

I never wanted to hurt you 
‘Cuz you were always there for me 
It was you and me against the world 
Thought that it would always be 

But we both know things are different now 
Life just took us different ways 
But please don’t take it personal 
We just don’t see things the same 

CHORUS: 
See you on the other side 
‘Cuz only one can win this game 
See you on the other side 
Now things will never be the same 

——– 
Wish you’d climb down off your high horse 
Wish you’d just be more like me 
But deep down I know you’re twice the man 
I could ever hope to be 

You know I once looked up to you 
And the truth is I still do 
But life led me down a different road 
Now I’ve got to see this through 

Don’t expect you to understand it 
Don’t know how I could explain 
But no matter what I hope you know 
Hope you know you’re not to blame 

We just don’t see things the same 

—- 

See you on the other side 
Only one can win this fight 
See you on the other side 
Both convinced our side is right 

See you on the other side 
When we’ve got nothing left to lose 
See you on the other side 
Wish we’d never had to choose 

—– 

I wish there was some other way 
Wish we didn’t have to fight 
But we both set out to win this war 
Both believe our side is right 

We’re more alike than ever now 
Just wound up on different sides 
Both stubborn and devoted souls 
Both prepared to give our lives 

Now I’ve made my choice and you’ve made yours 
It’s too late to turn back now 
I’ll see you on the other side 
Of this tattered battleground 

See you on the other side 
Now we’ve got nothing left to lose 
See you on the other side 
Should have never had to choose 

See you on the other side
‘Cuz only one can win this fight
See you on the other side 
Does it matter which side’s right?

Win or lose, we’ll pay a price.

---

“For Christ’s sake, Jack, quit looking at me like that,” I think to myself.

I know he’s angry, and he’s about to beat the crap out of me. To be perfectly honest, I can’t say I blame him. I lied to him, and I guess I deserve that much. I just wish he’d get that look off his face, that look that’s tugging at heartstrings I didn’t know I still had.

He starts punching me in the face, under the guise of an interrogation. But we both know it’s just an excuse. He knows I won’t talk no matter how many times he hits me. I think he keeps hitting me just to see if I’m still human, if I can still feel pain.

“Yes,” I want to tell him. “Yes, this hurts like hell, what do you think? Yes, it bothers me that Bill’s dead and you’re dying. No, I don’t take pleasure in killing people - I just do what has to be done.” But I can’t. I can’t let down my guard. I can’t let Jack see that he’s getting to me when he gives me that stupid wounded puppy look and asks me why I betrayed him.

I can see the desperation on his face as he asks me why. I can tell that he’s hoping against hope that I’ll tell him I’ve been undercover this whole time or give him a code word like I did yesterday morning. Anything to avoid facing the reality of who I am now and what I’ve become.

I don’t think I’d know how to explain it even if I wanted to. I believe in what I’m doing but there’s nothing I could say that would make Jack feel any better about it or help him understand. He’s still stuck on his rose-colored view of the world no matter how much sh*t they put him through and there’s nothing I can do to change his mind.

Truth be told, I don’t want to change him. As much as I wish he’d wake up and stop offering himself up as a sacrificial lamb for a government that keeps betraying him, part of me doesn’t want to see him change. I guess because I know that if there were more people like Jack in this world maybe the government wouldn’t be so f*cked up. The last thing in the world I want is to end up like him, but somehow I wouldn’t want to see him turn out like me either.

I guess deep down I know I’m not half the man Jack is. I never was, and that’s why part of me has always resented him even when we were as close as brothers. Jack was always like that overachieving big brother who made me feel inadequate. Even then I could never admit how much I admired him, and I don’t want to even admit to myself that a part of me still does.

Maybe that’s why today has been so rough. Frankly, the last few weeks have been rough. It was easy to stay focused on what I was doing and not think about the human cost when I spent all my time in the company of mercenaries and thugs.

But since Bill and I started working together and then Chloe flew out from LA to help us, it’s been a little harder to lie and to block out any emotion. Somehow it’s different being around people who knew me before, people who knew Michelle. I wasn’t completely honest with them, but I told them a little bit about my past to get them trusting me. It was the first time I’d had to evaluate what I’d done, and I didn’t like the feeling. But at least with them I could shrug off their disappointed looks and tell myself they couldn’t judge because they hadn’t been through what I’d been through.

With Jack I couldn’t do that. As rough as I’ve had it, I know Jack’s had it ten times worse. I guess I know Jack’s the only person who has any right to judge me for what I’ve done, and somehow that makes it harder not to care. I just wish he wouldn’t take it so personally. It was never personal - we’re just soldiers on opposite sides now, both doing what has to be done to get the job done.

“Get a grip, Tony,” I urge myself. I’ve got to stop letting Jack get to me.

I just wish I’d killed him a few hours ago when I had the chance. He was onto me, and I needed to neutralize him. Besides, he’s dying anyway, and I know what this pathogen does. He would have been better off if I’d have put him out of his misery.

But for some reason I felt the need to explain myself to Jack first, to tell him that I had never wanted to hurt him. As if it would have made any difference to him 30 seconds later when he was dead. But I just had to try to make him understand, because for some strange reason I still find myself caring what he things. So I wasted about 30 seconds talking to him before pulling the trigger, and then it was too late. I saw two paramedics approaching, and I had no choice but to flag them down to help Jack.

I managed to get away before he could tell anyone to stop me, but I knew he wasn’t going to stop until he found me. Now I had no choice but to put Plan B in motion, and I really didn’t want to go there.

I kick myself for being weak, for hesitating. I trained myself years ago to shoot without hesitation, to eliminate anyone who got in the way without thinking about the consequences or the philosophical questions about whether it was justified. The last time I held a weapon in my hand and hesitated I almost got myself killed, and I let the man responsible for Michelle’s murder get away.

It wasn’t too hard to detach myself, really. When I was in the Marines we didn’t hesitate to shoot if we saw the enemy approach. We didn’t stop to think about whether the guys on the other side had families or whether our mission was justified. We followed orders, and we did what we had to do to get the job done. That’s what I’ve been doing for the past five years, and it wasn’t hard until now.

Somehow today it got harder though. I wish I hadn’t had to kill Larry, especially after he took off my cuffs and told me I didn’t deserve to be treated like a prisoner. And I have to admit that watching Renee uncover his body got to me a little. When she asked me what happened I felt a pit in my stomach, and it wasn’t just because Jack was listening with eagle ears trying to figure it out. I felt a genuine twinge of guilt, something I haven’t felt in a long time until today. I tried to make her feel a little better by telling her that I was pretty sure Larry had saved my life. I figured it was the least I could do.

I don’t know why I felt guilty. I just met Renee today and I figured there was a good chance she was about to die anyway, once Galvez drew everyone into a building like I told him to. But I guess it’s the first time in a while that I’ve had to watch someone react, and her reaction made death, something I’ve grown so comfortable with and indifferent to, suddenly seem less abstract. Besides, I could tell Larry was more than just a boss to her, and for a split second it brought me back to the way Michelle must have reacted years ago when I was out in the field with Jack and for a little while it looked like I was dead.

I quickly pushed the thought out of my head. I don’t ever let myself think about Michelle. It’s too dangerous. I don’t ever let myself question whether she would understand why I’m doing what I’m doing. I can’t let myself become crippled by the nauseating emptiness that comes whenever I step back from my anger even for a moment and let myself think about how much I miss her. My anger is a shield, a shield that prevents me from ever having to feel that emptiness, from ever having to care about anything or anyone that might get in the way of doing what I need to do.

It’s that shield that’s made it so easy for me to kill without thinking twice. But I feel it crumbling, and that scares me more than the gun Jack’s pointing at my head. Frankly, I just wish Jack would pull the trigger already and put me out of my misery. For his sake as well as mine.

I think back to the night about 8 years ago when Jack and I were at CTU going over the final preparations for his mission with the Salazars. When we were done he asked me if I would keep an eye out for Kim while he was gone. Of course I agreed. It was the least I could do while he was putting his neck on the line yet again. Besides, I had gotten to know Kim pretty well by that point, and she was a nice girl. In a way, I guess she’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a daughter since Michelle and I never got the chance to have kids of our own.

I didn’t want to have to use Kim as leverage, but Jack didn’t leave me any choice. I told my people not to hurt her unless they had to, but who knows if they’ll even listen. I tell myself that Jack would do the exact same thing if he could. I know that if he had any leverage over me right now he wouldn’t hesitate to use it. But he doesn’t, because unlike him I’ve really got nothing left to lose.

“I’ve got nothing left to lose,” Jack says shakily. As if I do. “You either tell me where the canister is or so help me g-d I will lay you down, right here, right now.”

For some reason I can’t help but chuckle. “You think I’ve got anything left to lose, Jack?” I retort. His face twitches. I’m not sure whether that’s from the pathogen or just his emotions.

“Do it,” I say softly, looking deep into his eyes. He studies me for a few moments to see if I’m serious. I nod earnestly, silently willing him to go ahead. He doesn’t know that I’m urging him to do it for his sake, so my people won’t have to execute Plan B. I look deep into his eyes and nod, bracing myself for the shot, hoping that he’s angry enough to go through with it and pull the trigger.

But he can’t do it. He can’t bring himself to pull the trigger no matter how hurt and disgusted he is. Maybe he figures he’d be letting me off easy, but I know there’s more to it than that. He has that devastated look on his face again, that face that shows how painful it is for him to see what’s happened to me. Somehow that face and the fact that he couldn’t kill me hurt more than the pain from him beating the crap out of me. It hurts because it means he still thinks of me like a little brother even though I betrayed him, that a small part of him still believes there’s hope for me, enough to be worth keeping me alive. But I gave up all hope long ago, and I bet Jack would give up on me too if he knew what was coming next.

For a second I find myself wanting to talk, wanting to at least tell him that it’s not his fault, that there’s nothing he could have done to change my mind or save me from myself. I feel like I at least owe him that much. But I can’t. I can’t let my guard down, and anything I tell him might clue him in and jeopardize the plan. So I just stare back up at Jack with a look that conceals my emotions, a look I’ve perfected quite well.

“See you on the other side,” Jack had said to me earlier tonight. That’s how it is now and that’s how it’s got to be. I never wanted to hurt him, but we’re on opposite sides of this and there’s no getting around that. I’ll do what needs to be done and so will he. I just wish it didn’t have to go down this way.

Previous Chapter (Jack’s POV)