HALF JACK
When, without thinking Sydney can fire a rifle into another faceless enemie's face; is that a skill from her mother?
To kill. Without emotion. Or is it something that was passed down from her father. Killing is okay, if it's for the greater good. Or America.
Landing easily after bringing down two guards with a tremendous roundhouse kick Sydney realises that the sound around her? It's deafening. From all directions sound explodes at her, her breathing becomes laboured as she fights for her life. The bullets dance around her, never coming close.
She watches a co-worker die, tears are curbed and she continues her mission. Which part is that? The part that cries for the victims. It must be her mother. She thinks.
Crashing down onto her knees she rolls under the slowly sinking gate and as she does finds herself face to face with a mass of armed agents. Unlike the dead CIA agents in the warehouse behind her, these are not the good guys. Which part of her doesn't show fear?
Both, her mother and her father never show fear. It's a Bristow trait.
The small confinement cell is cold and evidently painted black to try and create an edge of intimidation. Sydney isn't fazed. Her hands may be chained to the wall and she may not have eaten in over two days…at last count but she still isn't fazed. Yet. That stubborn streak of an intense unwilling to give in is another thing her parents share.
The torturer is a glib Frenchman whose charms are utterly lost on Sydney. Try as he may he cannot extract from her the information he so sorely needs.
This lack of progress will not leave a good impression on his peers so he resorts to barbaric torture. At one point he slits her arm at a certain pressure point and she goes limp, submissive. Almost. Then her confident, still beautiful head lifts up and she draws back and spits into his eyes.
That reckless attitude, lack of respect for any sort of authority, is from her mother or perhaps her renegade father. It's difficult to be sure in her current state.
Of course, it can get bewildering, being torn between these two domineering personalities, and her persona, struggling pathetically in the midst of them. They took away her ability to truly understand herself a long time ago. With their covert projects when she was a child, that helped shape her into the perfect secret agent.
In the impossibly darkening cell-night must be approaching-she has plenty of time to think about this person she's become. Sydney wonders if Irina Derevko had raised her; with her twisted vision of good, would Sydney cease to weep for the dead and be concerned with the living?
Or is it Jack's fault that sentiment causes her to break so easily when she could be much stronger, when she could just let her empathy disintegrate like powder. When she could execute without a moments thought and even take pleasure in murder? Just like her mother?
The cavalry arrives at the break of daylight. In spite of what she's been subjected to, Sydney strolls out into the glaring sunshine with surprising ease. Where Vaughn would have once stood with arms open wide is in its place a black van. Ready to carry her back to work and perhaps a change of clothes. She doesn't mind though, she doesn't need Vaughn. In fact she could just about live the rest of her life alone. Just like Jack could. He needs no one and neither does he.
Yet somehow they've foraged some sort of relationship and Sydney has even found a way to care for her mother. Strangely enough after wanting to kill each other and the odd brainwashing, they love each other. They're a family. Deeply troubled individuals they may be, but a family they are none the less.
This still isn't any explanation for why Sydney doesn't know her own heart. Doesn't have a voice to call her own. Or is it an excuse, to blame her natural instincts on her undoubtedly dubious parent so that she can somehow make exceptions for her actions. I kill because I was trained to. I take revenge because I seek honour. These are the things she tells herself. But which half of her parents is the one that has such an obstinate, self-righteous belief in good and which side of her parents gave her this weakness in her heart. The weakness that could destroy her life, her dreams and not to mention her volatile family.
When she falls into his arms and kisses that soft crop of white blonde hair that shapes a beautiful face she wonders was it Jack or Irina that gave her the ability to love without giving a damn about the consequences?
Sydney loves Julian Sark more than she ever believed or wished she could but her mother's side wants to use him and betray him and her father's side wants to kill him pure and then turn him in. Now as she remembers what he has done, Jack's side begins to win and she feels for the dagger by her side.
It's cold. Clean and sharp. It fits so perfectly in her hand. Like this weapon was almost made for her.
He will make a laughably easy target, lying there so innocent by her side. So trusting. Then just as easily as she picked it up, the dagger slips from her fingers and she cries silent, tormented, tears.
If she could only find herself then maybe she could understand where her two years went. Pinpoint exactly when it was that her life spiralled into such darkness.
Maybe that's why she can't or won't find herself. Because she is afraid of what she might uncover. Something darker than she is ready to face. Just yet. So she lets her parents' personalities battle in her mind. Till she's ready to face herself.
But not now.
Not yet.
It's simply easier to lie to herself.
Lie that she doesn't know who she truly is.
The truth is that after those two years she hates the real her so much that it remains hidden. Locked away in the deepest recesses of her mind. But the truth has a horrible way of finding its way to the surface and tonight's actions involving the dagger have proven that.
Sydney Bristow cannot run from herself forever.
Two halves are equal
a cross between two evils
it's not an enviable lot
but if you listen
you'll learn to hear the difference
between the halves and the half nots
I try to wash him out but like she said; "the blood is thicker"
i see my mother in my face
but only when i travel
i run as fast as i can run
but
jack comes tumbling after...
I'm half Jill
and half jack
-Dresden Dolls 'Half Jack'-
A/N: Wrote this randomly one lone cold Alias filled night and I think its one of my best pieces! Enjoy! I also secretly want to marry Jennifer Garner so this one's for you! (I need to get out more! ; )