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THE VOICE FROM ABOVE

Posted in 24_fanfic

Title: The Voice From Above
Author: marinw
Characters: Petty Officer Tim Rooney/Jack/Chloe
Rating: PG
Summary: Tim deals with the ramifications of his actions.
Disclaimer: 24 is the Property of the Fox Production Company. Like that’s going to stop me.
A/N: I came to 24 fandom quite late, after my mother practically handcuffed me to the couch and forced me to watch the Day 5 finale. The rest is history. I actually didn’t fully catch up until last night, when I polished off the rest of Day 5 while Nova Scotia was enduring the ass end of a hurricane. I succeeded in creating a raving 24 addict out of my next-door neighbor in the process. All part of my evil, evil plot. This little tale is another one of the results…



Tim only briefly met the man who saved and destroyed his life. The man who had asked Tim to kill. The man who had talked Tim through slitting a man’s throat as if he was talking him through re-wiring a circuit board.

The man had ordered him to do all this so damn nicely.

“You can’t afford to think about this, son. You just have to do it.” Bauer’s urgent velvet-wrapped whisper had seemed louder than an alarm claxon.

Son? Where the hell did he get off calling him ‘son’?

This part wasn’t in the recruitment ads. Tim hadn’t been naïve when he had joined the Navy. He knew that someday he might have to kill someone. But not like this.

The Sentry’s wide-open, blank eyes were there every time Tim attempted to sleep. The cliché about getting blood on one’s hands was proven far too correct. Tim had scrubbed his hands raw, and the blood still seemed to be there.

After Tim had killed the Sentry, Bauer had killed his own target cleanly, with two perfectly aimed bullets. In what appeared to be a satisfying act of vengeance. Now that just wasn’t fair.

Then Bauer had walked off the submarine and away from the shipyard without another word.

Who the hell was this person?

Tim wanted to find this man. He needed an explanation. He deserved an explanation. But the man was nowhere to be found. Tim contacted the Los Angeles Branch of the Counter Terrorist Unit. After hours of getting the run-around from the receptionists and some lower-level analysts, he finally reached a women named Chloe O'Brian.

“This…this is Petty Officer Third Class Tim Rooney,” his voice was shaking. “The only surviving American crew member of the Natalia.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. What do you want?”

“I need to talk to one of your agents. He said his name was Jack Bauer.” Tim knew he sounded like a baby. He knew he sounded about as old as he looked. No wonder almost no-one could take him seriously.

There was a long silence.

“Hello?”

“Agent Bauer isn’t here anymore,” Ms. O'Brian snapped

“Then can you please tell where, um, he can be reached?”

Another silence. “That information is classified.”

That information is classified. Almost everything worth knowing was classified. Especially to a Petty Officer Third Class.

“But I really need to talk to him.” Tim knew he was starting to sound whiny.

“Well, you can’t. Good-Bye.”

“Wait…please. Could you please...give him a message?”

“What?!” O'Brian asked as if Tim had just requested a lasting and binding peace between Israel and Palestine.

“Tell him that I just wanted to say…thank you.”

“Yeah, fine.”

“Thank you so much.” Tim said shakily and hung up the phone. There was so much more Tim had wanted to ask. But he knew those questions would remain forever unanswered.

And so Tim only had his very brief recollections and his own abundant speculations for answers. Bauer loomed large in his imagination. Tim assumed that Bauer was off somewhere on some sort of deep undercover mission. Ordering people to kill and killing himself. Leaving behind a trail of bodies wherever he went. Dropping into situations and dropping out of them just as quickly. Never experiencing the consequences of his actions.

Agent Jack Bauer was free to continue with his messy and dangerous adventures, and Petty Officer Third Class Tim Rooney was left to the remains of his career. And to his nightmares. Such was the nature of the Universe.

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