Jack breathed in, then out, trying to. . .to feel something. Anything. His spine was killing him.

And sooner or later, Jack Abbott knew his greatest enemy - even worse than Victor - would show up in front of him, still looking as real as ever:

his father.

The man has been dead for years. To everyone else, at least. But to him the man is still alive. Still a vivid painting of all his failures and lost dreams. He's the only one that can see him, hear him.

More than Victor, more than Nikki, more than Jabot, more than everything messed up in his life his father bothers him most - even in death, Jack can't escape him.

He never will.

Jack can't tell anyone about all of the times his father haunts (which is pretty much everyday) - they would send him off to the crazy house, and that's the only thing worse than permanently being paralyzed he can think of. It's enough work keeping control of Newman. He doesn't have time to convince people that, yes, his dead father talks to him everyday and reminds him how much of a disappointment he is.

"Jack," his father says simply, slowly making his way over to the table.

Jack Abbott isn't even surprised anymore.

"Hello, father," he replies back, dryly. "It's great to see you again."