When he opens the door and sticks his head in, he sees Jack’s reflection in the mirror…and he sees something he recognizes. Hollow eyes, yet intent, searching…looking for traces of the Other, the remains of what was or evidence of what would be.

He looked at himself like that after Dan Forest died…looking for the pieces of his friend, his brother in arms, looking for some measure of hope left to cling to…

Letting himself into the bathroom fully, John drops a kiss on Jack’s shoulder, smoothing a hand up and down his back with slow, firm strokes.

“Come back to me, Jack.” He murmurs softly, standing beside him and watching his face. “Wherever you’re at right now, I’m here. Feel me…come back. I gotcha.”