Seeing Green
Author: Pharo
Disclaimer: 'Alias' belongs to ABC, Bad Robot, and JJ Abrams.
Summary: The green-eyed monster rears its ugly head.
Spoilers: 'Crossings.'
Feedback: pharo@newyork.com
He meets her in an eight by ten cell. It's the same cell that he surveyed three years ago when its occupant was the elusive Irina Derevko. He recalls week after week of watching her lie and cheat and near the end, believing every single of her half-truths.
Now, he watches as someone new paces the cage, trapped and convicted. He doesn't want to speak to her because it hurts too much to find the words that could convey an iota of what he's feeling, but Eric pushes him toward the door. Eric thinks it will bring closure, but he doubts this.
She spots him before he can make his presence known. Her body tenses for a brief second. He can tell that it's an involuntary action because a moment later when she has time to gather her strength, she is once again calm and relaxed.
"I knew you'd visit sooner or later," she says, her back still turned to him.
"I guess you know me better than I know myself," he replies. "Can't say that applies both ways though."
This earns a chuckle from her.
"This all transpired, dear," she starts, her voice sugary sweet now, "because it turns out that I didn't know you at all."
"What?"
He hates to think that she turned because of anything he did, but is comforted by the thought that she always wasn't a liar. He wants to believe that she was, at one time, the person he thought she was.
"You drove me to this," she says.
"You caused all of this on your own."
She whips around to face him. He's frozen in that spot for the longest time, unable to move as she walks toward him. For a moment, he's not even sure it's really her because her once beautiful eyes are now flashing with intense hatred.
"I should've killed you in your sleep," she whispers to him, her face two inches away from his.
"Maybe you should have," he says, "and spared everyone all this trouble."
She sighs.
"Everyone or Sydney Bristow?"
"So that's what this is really about?" he asks, walking to another corner of the room. He doesn't want to be that close to her. Not anymore. "Sydney?"
"Don't do that!" she shouts.
"Do what?"
"Make this into a Lifetime movie of the week. I'm not the delusional wife and you're not the innocent husband."
She is running her hands through her hair now.
"The green-eyed monster rears its ugly head."
"I lost you the moment she came back," she says, softer now.
"You lost me when you lied," he says. "This was never about her."
She laughs again.
"Of course not. Why would it ever be about her? How could sweet and innocent Sydney ever be the one to blame, right Michael?"
"It didn't work between us because you didn't let it."
"Can you blame me for not trusting you? I saw those darting looks," she says. "I even made allowances for it in my head, Michael! 'He cares about her as a friend.' 'He wants to make sure it's really her.' I wanted to believe you."
He shakes his head now.
"Then why the hell didn't you?"
"Because it wasn't true. Because you weren't friends. There were three of us in the relationship and Sydney Bristow was not the one that was the third wheel."
"How can you say that?"
"Julian was right, Michael. You believe what you want to believe."
"I believe the truth."
"But you don't follow what you preach. You're still denying what we both know to be true. You and Sydney got together long before they put me in this hole."
"So you were the pawn in all this, that it?"
"No. Julian helped me understand that I didn't have to be the victim."
The name again. He doesn't recall knowing anyone named Julian.
"Who's Julian?"
The grin on her face immediately makes him regret asking her. His head suddenly hurts. She starts to laugh and he doesn't know why.
He hears the sound of the outer cage doors open. The transport is ready and they're coming to take her away.
"You know him as Mr. Sark," she finally says with a smile.
It feels like she punched him in the gut. He can feel her diamond wedding ring cutting into his flesh. Her smile is like salt in the wound.
The room suddenly feels smaller to him and it's a struggle to get air into his lungs. He loosens his tie a little and he can feel his face start to sweat. Everything has become blurred around the edges. He tries not to look at her, tries to focus on the floor tiles or his polished shoes or anything that's not her smiling face.
"Sark?" he manages to utter, but Lauren is already gone.