|Back From The Dead
Author: cheeky-chaos PM
Sark's POV. Takes place during the S3 episode "Succession". Sark sits in his cell waiting to be traded to the Covenant in Mexico when Sydney pays him a suprise visit. Companion to "Some Things Never Change". Sort of Sarkney.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Drama - Sark, J. & Sydney B. - Words: 1,103 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 2 - Published: 01-18-05 - id: 2224770
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I don't own Alias or the characters. I'm just playing with them. And these lines are from the episode "Succession".
Back From The Dead
I sat in my CIA cell, just like I had for the past two years. Two years. When you have nothing to do than be at the beck and call of a rather incompetent intelligence agency, two years can be a very long time. It also gives you a lot of time to contemplate your life.
Especially when you've been abandoned by the one person you thought you could trust. It seems, even I was wrong about Irina Derevko. I gave a cold smile. There was a time when I hadn't thought it was possible to be wrong about anything or anyone. But that was before Sydney Bristow died. Being abandoned by Irina didn't really hurt compared to that.
Oh, Sydney. She was the only person I'd ever met that could beat me. I had always prided myself on being the best at what I did and trained relentlessly. But Sydney always seemed to beat me, no matter what I did. And in a slightly perverse way, I treasured every bruise she gave me.
It seems long confinement and contemplation has made me rather sentimental and soft. But I won't deny the news of her death hurt more than I ever thought it would. And I always thought that I would be the one to finally kill her, if she didn't kill me first.
I shifted slightly on the bed, where I sat and drew my knees up to my chin. Even after two years, the thought of Sydney's death strangely made me feel sad. But I suppressed it. I had spent a lifetime of learning how to suppress emotions until I no longer needed them. Now was no different.
I heard the sound of metal gates opening and resisted sighing in frustration. Agent Vaughn or one of the other Boy Scout agents was here to see me again. I wondered absently what they wanted this time. I guess it didn't matter, because I'd be getting out of here soon. Traded to the Covenant. I can't say I particularly cared anymore as to who held the key to my chains. It didn't matter anymore.
"I wanted a word before you get traded."
My head jerked at the words and all my years of discipline and training couldn't help keep the absolute shock off my face. Sydney Bristow stood on the other side of the glass looking as if she hadn't changed in the two years that had past. Had I finally cracked? Was this some sort of hallucination? Surely this wasn't real.
I got off the bed and walked to the glass. Damn, she looked as beautiful as ever. Her brown hair hung silkily to the shoulders of her black suit and her golden brown eyes gleamed with their familiar intelligence.
"Dear God, it can't possibly be you…" I whispered.
"Don't start this conversation by acting surprised that I'm alive." She snapped.
Damn. She even sounded the same.
"Sydney, you know how highly I regard your abilities as an operative, but...even I didn't think you were capable of cheating death once your remains had been identified." I said smoothly, masking the remaining shock I felt. "Which begs the question: if it wasn't your body they removed from the ashes...whose was it?"
Sydney merely looked at me. "I read the transcripts of your confessions – including the fact that you and a woman named Allison Doren killed my friend...Francie."
"If you've read my transcript, you know how cooperative I've been. I'll be glad to pay you the same courtesy if you simply tell me what you're getting at." I replied.
It was easy to fall back into the familiar pattern of our banter, and I felt the years begin to fall away. The time I had spent in confinement didn't matter – neither did the years she had spent doing whatever it was she had been doing.
"That explosion in my apartment was a cover up to make the CIA believe I was dead." Sydney said coolly. "What I believe is that Sloane abducted me, I think you know why – but you failed to mention that in your confession."
I stared at her in surprise. Of all the things I had expected when I had seen her, this is definitely not it. "If I'm to understand what you're saying, you have no idea where you've been for the last two years." I asked, surprised.
Sydney didn't answer. But then she didn't have to. I was written in her eyes.
"None?" I asked.
Sydney shot me a hard glare. I couldn't help it, but I let out a short bark or laughter. I had had very little to be amused at over the last two years, and this situation struck me as being rather amusing.
"Unbelievable!" I laughed again. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh, it's just...I'm speechless. Sydney, if Sloane had intended to abduct you, I wasn't privy to it."
She continued to glare at me. "What if I said I still don't believe you?"
"I'd say it'd make no difference. In 24 hours I'll be free, and...you'll remain in the dark." I couldn't help but taunt.
We stared at each other for a long moment, our eyes full of things we couldn't say to each other. We were enemies and I fear we always will be. It's a shame. Because I do believe Sydney Bristow is a woman I could actually love…if I still have a heart left, anyway.
"See you in Mexico." She said finally and left.
I watched her walk away, before moving to sit back on my bed. But suddenly I was restless. My freedom, as much as it was anyway, couldn't come quickly enough. I had been out of the world for long enough, and it seemed that it was time to remind them all about what they were missing.
Strange, though. I didn't think I had any will to fight left. Maybe Sydney wasn't the only one who had been lost during the past two years. And maybe she meant more to me than I liked to admit.
I grinned to myself. Sydney was back. And now so was I.