Epilogue

"Agent Bauer?" Taylor called out, opening one of his eyes and checking his pupil.

Normal reaction, he was okay.

"Agent Bauer?" she tried again, letting go of him and leaning back a little to give him some space.

A little movement, a slight jerk of his head.

"Jack?" she called him by his name and it seemed to do the trick. He came to.

Opening his eyes, the man lying on the stretcher in front of her blinked, seeming a bit disorientated for a second. Not surprisingly. Then he seemed to recognize her.

"What happened?" he asked, trying to straighten up but quickly sinking back, one hand reaching for his temples.

"Someone drugged you," Taylor explained, placing her own hand on shoulder to reassure him. "You were out for a while."

Still rubbing his temples, the agent seemed to search his memory. Then he suddenly stared at her, his eyes filled with…she wasn't sure what it was. Shock? Disbelief? Fear?

"Is she dead?" he asked, his voice husky and a bit shaky.

"I assume you're talking about the woman you brought in earlier?" she asked, not sure why though. Of course, he was talking about her. Why was she stalling?

"Yes. Is she dead?"

Because you wanna know what that expression in his eyes is. Because she couldn't help but being curious – as usually. Hadn't he told her himself that he had wanted to kill her for so long? But now he seemed almost shaken, almost…

"No," she stated, carefully watching his reaction. It was morbid but she couldn't help it. She had seen so many reactions in patients' or relatives' faces, by now probably every reaction there was, but she never got sick of watching them, studying them.

He swallowed. Was that relief she saw? Or disappointment? She wasn't sure. Maybe he didn't know himself.

"She's gone."

"What?" he exclaimed, now definitely in shock. "What do you mean she's gone?"

She was about to answer when he suddenly sat up and nearly pushed her aside, jumping to his feet and looking around in the hallway.

"Wagner," he called out to his colleague who was just approaching them. "What the hell happened?" And rushing past her he was gone.

She turned around to watch him talk to the other agent, overhearing parts of their conversation. Still observing his face, she witnessed him getting the news that the woman, Nina something, seemed to have escaped the hospital. They already had an idea how and then someone came running down the corridor, yelling something about a plane at an airport not too far away. Units were already on their way there.

"You stay here, Jack, we'll let you know when we have them in custody."

It seemed that he wanted to protest, but reaching for his head again he seemed to fold.

"Okay," he uttered and when his colleagues had left leaned back against the wall, his face pale, his forehead sweaty.

"Maybe you should lay down a little longer," Taylor suggested softly, taking a few steps towards him.

"Yeah, maybe," he replied weakly, and didn't protest when she led him back to the stretcher he had been lying on before. Not to lie down though, but at least he sat on it.

"I'm sorry," Taylor said, realizing how insensitive she had been. After all, it was the murderer of his wife who had just escaped.

He stared down the hallway, avoiding her gaze.

"That's okay. They'll get her," he declared, but she could see how his hands clenched around the edge of the stretcher for a second. "They'll get her."

"And if they don't?" she asked before she could stop herself, and he looked up and into her eyes, his face an empty mask, as if he had asked himself the same question and didn't have an answer.