2+2=5
by
The Bone Lady
Rating: PG:13/ R
Summary: Sydney changes, Vaughn feels loss, and Sloane sits in his thrown…
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Part 1
Before Jesus
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5 years, 3 days and 6 months, and all she could remember is that 2+2=5. It was beautiful really, and it put everything in perspective. Peace is war, freedom is slavery and love is hate. In this world nothing was wrong, everything was right. He had done this, he had saved her. He convinced her in the only way that he could , pain. 2+2=5. And finally after days upon days she believed him. Her very own Jesus Christ, her savoir. 5 years, 3 days and 6 months ago she would of thought of him to be her enemy, After all back then Arvin Sloane was. But everything had changed now…2+2 didn't equal four anymore.
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A numb feeling filled her body when she came. With him it wouldn't be this way. It would be an earth shattering, angel's screaming, thanking god moment. And afterwards they would lay into each other, clinging to their combined essence and whispering endearments into each other's ear, glowing and utterly happy. But she wasn't with him.
Will had kissed her again. She didn't like that feeling. Instead of liking his kiss, she dreaded it. It felt like slobber slowly dripping in and out of her mouth, infecting her with it's diseased presence. But so many duty's had made her do this. Duty to her country, duty to Sloane, duty to the CIA and a duty to Will. In truth she had led him on, her suggestive smiles, her lingering sentences and his new involvement in her life, her real life. He had done so much for her, and she had done so little for him. So she let his tongue scar her lips, she let his hands burn like acid on her skin, and she let him slip inside of her. And afterwards, she rolled over, her back to him, cold and angered. Angry at him for doing this to her, for making her feel like she had to do this, angry at Sloane for making her keep the false pretense of normalcy and angry at Michael for making her love him.
He had tried to hold her but she sat up coldly and told him not to touch her. He talked, and talked and talked. That's all he ever does.
"So your just going to leave what we just did behind. We made love Sydney. You can't act so callused towards me now! What was I a quick fuck…Damnit Sydney! I love you, I wouldn't have done this if I didn't think you loved me…"
After he said that, he realized how ignorant he really was. Sydney wouldn't take his ramblings anymore, nor would she take his misconceptions.
"Oh come on Will, you think I love you! You think I liked it when you touched me. You know a bad I feel? You were so sad, about everything." She had begun to feel tears in her eyes, her voice cracked and images of Michael dead shot up in her mind. But she still continued. She wouldn't pretend with him anymore. "I just wanted you to feel better! Damnit Will! We just had sex , not love, just sex. Your not supposed to be that person. You made me that person! Your not him…Your not fucking him…You never could be." When she finished her loud shouts had gone to a whisper. She looked, sounded, and felt powerless. And then finally, he left
. Briefly on the street they would see each other awkwardly avoiding each other's glances. But other then that she never spoke to him. She found out a year later that Will had been murdered. The CIA told her, a home robbery gone wrong. She knew better.
She wasn't' sad, or mad or grief stricken. She was at peace. Relieved that she no longer had to live with her burden. Will had been her burden. Never letting her stay in peace. Always getting Sydney in trouble. He thought he had a right to know everything. But he didn't.
She wasn't ashamed she felt no grief, she wasn't surprised he died, she was merely at peace. 2+2 still equaled four back then. She just didn't' realize that that was about to change.
Jesus had finally decided to save her.
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