Disclaimer: Alias belongs to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot and assorted other people and corporations that are not me. I am also not making any money off of this in any way.

Author's Note: This is an entry for the February Challenge over at Sd- 1.net and as such is only a one part fic.

Much unhappiness has come into this world because of things left unsaid. Things like, Sydney your mother was a KGB agent who killed the father of the man you love, or the knowledge that your father secretly tested Project Christmas on you, and a thousand other things. Big things, like your father never telling you that he loves you and trusts you learning that you spent years working for the very people that you thought that you were fighting against.

This time things were different.

This time he admitted to you that it had been your mother that had intervened to save your life, and Vaughn's, in North Korea. The admission had surprised you. Even two years ago, when Irina Derevko had ostensibly been working with the CIA, your father would never have been so quick to give her the credit for something that had gone right. Maybe he was just more comfortable with having your mother working against the CIA, in a role where he was more used to her being. Or maybe the past two years had changed he and your mother more than he had told you. Things left unsaid, to you, and probably to your mother, as well.

No matter what he said about North Korea, though, you know that there is something else- something that he's not telling you. By now, you've gotten used to discerning whether he's telling you everything or not and now he's not. Your first instinct is to investigate somehow or try to get the answer from him. Instead you're patient. You didn't know that within a few days you would have the answers, whether you still wanted them or not.

They showed up at your door, like two avenging angels. One with a sharp air of impatience not negated by the pixie cut of her hair. It didn't disguise the steel in her soul, or hide her fury. She wore a long leather coat, belted around her waist despite the fact that it was now spring in LA. The other woman was slimmer and a little taller. She was beautiful in a way that still had the power to distract men, both young and old, but in her eyes was her age. Not really age, but wisdom and watchfulness. You got the feeling that with her eyes she saw everything and knew everything. Both women carried an air of power about them that immediately made you think of one person, your mother.

Before you even realize what you're doing, you're slipping away from the door and allowing them entrance to your home, even as it goes against all of your training and common sense. One of them walks into your apartment with a sense of familiarity that you immediately notice. You weren't trained as a spy for nothing, after all. It only takes you a moment to begin to wonder, even as you keep a careful eye on the two women, if this is what your father wouldn't tell you about.

You know without need of any sort of demonstration, that these two women are dangerous and you have no doubts about that, but for some reason you're not worried, a little curious maybe. Then again the cat was killed.

"Who are you?" You ask. There is no fear, panic or desperation in your voice; it's simply a request for knowledge.

The one with the pixie cut smiles, or perhaps smirks is a better word for it, at the other woman. "I told you Jack hadn't told her about us."

The comment catches you by surprise, although it really shouldn't. It was, after all, what you had suspected. You continue to focus on the other woman, though. Neither seems to be in charge, but it seems as if she will be the first to make a move. The other woman spares only a glance for her companion and instead focuses on you. Her eyes are measuring, and you meet them without flinching, returning her gaze steadily.

"Sydney," she pauses and smiles slightly, "Your mother was not an only child." And then it all fits, why these women seem so familiar and why you keep thinking about your mother.

"You're her sisters." Your voice is flat, simply stating the fact.

"She is smart," the first one replies, "It even took Jack longer to catch on."

The second nods, but adds quickly, "True, but you were trying to keep him from finding out." Even that little bit of mirth fades away from her, though, and you start to wonder why they are here.

Within the hour you know their names. Katya is the one with the pixie cut and the long coat. Elena, is as you had surmised, the oldest of the three sisters. You had also learned why they were there. It makes you want to reconsider your stance on things left unsaid; perhaps they aren't so bad after all.

Their news makes you cry. It wasn't the response that you had expected yourself to have, if you were ever faced with the situation. Still you suppose that some things, like love for a mother, are almost hardwired.

Time is important, of course, but some things like this must take the time to be told. So they take the time to tell you, showing you your mother's life through their eyes. They start with her return to the Soviet Union, or at least her return to their home and then they go through the next several decades. They tell you everything, without censoring the truth or trying to spare you from the less pleasant details. You appreciate that fact, especially after all of the years of receiving fragmented truths and lies of omission that have always came back to bite you in the ass when you were least expecting it.

The last thing that they tell you about, of course, is your missing two years. Elena takes over from Katya to tell that portion of the story. She makes it sound so alive, as if they were right there with you as she talks about your mother and father. She tells you about how it was Jack who approached Irina the day after your funeral. She leaves out nothing about the unholy vengeance that they had wreaked on anyone who was connected with what had happened to you or the way that they had finally broke in London. It was then that they discovered that there was a chance that you were still alive. It had given them hope, Elena said, and that had changed everything between them. That hope was what they needed to unlock the emotions that had been hidden beneath their pain and rage.

Katya interrupts her sister here to say that the next three months that your parents had spent together were the happiest that she had ever seen Irina. She states it boldly. It is no maudlin statement. It simply [b]is[/b]. For good and bad, dark and light, torture and redemption, lies and truth it is. They were in love with no reservations.

Elena tells the next part as well, this time with an air of responsibility. Jack's time in solitary had not slowed Irina down. She had worked just as hard to find you as she had before. She had no doubts about what he would have wanted her to do, and giving up was not it. Eventually you were found, but your mother was still hard at work, Elena says, this time to protect you and now that he was free, to see Jack again. She was so close.

Katya takes over for Elena and despite the anger in her voice there is a note of pride in her voice for her little sister. All of Irina's attackers- and there were well over a dozen- died. Irina died struggling to live, now that everything that she had wanted, her family, was almost in her grasp.

You realize that now there will be things forever left unsaid to your mother. Things like thank you, I love you, Mom, and I'm sorry, that would have brought happiness rather than pain. You make a vow then that takes even your aunts by surprise, as you realize what is lost, this time, forever. You vow to leave nothing unsaid now. You will tell the whole world what you left unsaid to her. One action is worth a thousand words and your actions will be many as you deal with those who killed your mother. This time pain, their pain will come from what you will speak and acknowledge rather than things that have been left unsaid. It is the last gift that you can give her. The world will know that her daughter loved Irina Derevko.

It is all that can be said.

Please leave push that little review button and leave me some feedback on this story.