A/N: My first attempt at Alias AU. I think from this point forth, its
pretty self-explanatory, but I'll give you the basis for it up front. A
simple twist of fate can send a life from one polar to the next. Take
Sydney Bristow. Her life could have taken two paths. One way being with
her father, fighting SD6 from the inside, righting the wrongs of her
oblivious past. But what if a simple factor in that equation, her mother,
changed that path. Then sent Sydney on a path that was already written for
her, since the day she was born.
A Mother's Daughter
December 15th, 1974
Charleston, West Virginia
The dying sunlight streaked over the sky, crimson and violet crashing together as the temperatures dropped. The sky was clear, a few small stars beginning to twinkle on as Laura Bristow, bundled against he biting wind, watched from her front porch.
Dusk had always, for as long as she could remember, been her favorite time of the day. She remembered sitting on her father's shoulders as they'd walked the streets of Moscow while they watched the sun dip beneath the tall office buildings. Those walks had become few and far between as the Cold War raged on, but she'd always watch the sunset from her bedroom window and pretend she was with her father.
A different country, a different season, a different life. What used to be skyscrapers were now replaced with craggy mountains. Her father was long since dead, so she now watched her sunsets alone.
The child in her lap gurgled happily. Not alone, Laura reminded herself. She now had a child to share her sunsets with. "Yes, Sydney, I know." Laura crooned into her child's ear. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" One plump arm shot into the air, grasping as if trying to touch something just out of reach. "You want to touch the stars, do you Syd?" Laura turned the child, hugging her to her chest tightly. "Will you bring Mommy home one? Will you bring me a star, sweetheart?"
Sydney curled her fingers around her mother's hair, and then laid her head on Laura's shoulder. Laura rocked back in forth in the wicker chair, they sat like that till the sky was dark, a sleeping child in her mother's arms.
Headlights sliced through the darkness like lasers, the car coming to a screeching halt in front of their house. Laura strained to see, rising to stand at the edge of the porch. "Jack?! Is that you?" She saw her husband's body move through the darkness without a word. "You're home early. I didn't expect you to be home until Friday night."
Jack stepped into the light of the front porch. "You bitch." He seemed to choke on the words. "You lying bitch."
Laura stared at Jack, bewildered a moment. Then, with her daughter's head cupped in her palm, realization flooded through her. "Not in front of the baby." Laura said simply, then turned and opened the front door, walking into the warm home silently. The screen door slammed behind her, then a moment later squeaked open again as her husband followed closely on her heels.
Laura laid Sydney down gently in the bassinette. The warm brown eyes of her daughter bore into hers, as if questioning her actions the same was her father was. Laura closed her eyes briefly, draining her mind of everything. Those who know her work knew that that's what she did before she completed an assignment.
Her mind was always devoid of all emotion when she killed.
Jack Bristow had no time to react when his wife spun, grabbing the gun from the holster under his arm. Instinctively, he made a grab for it, but it was already too late. Laura swept her legs under Jack, watching him crumble to the ground with blank disinterest.
The sound of her disengaging the safety was like an endless echo in Jack's head. "I'm sorry, Bristow, I really am." Her voice now carried a hint of her Russian childhood; one he'd only heard when she was extremely angry or extremely aroused. "I knew this day would come eventually, but I had hoped you'd be of more use to me before I had to end our…working relationship, if you will."
Jack inched back, feeling the panic rise in his throat. "Why?" He said, emotion slurring his words. "Why did you do this to us, to your country, to your child? Why did you do this to—" His body jerked when the first bullet plowed into his chest. A whistled breath escaped his lips as he collapsed backwards, head making a sickening sound as it met the hardwood floor.
Laura stepped forward and aimed, firing the second shot. Then the third. Jack Bristow moved no more.
She stood over the body watching as blood, thick and warm, began to run onto the floor. She leveled the gun once more, preparing for the final shot to the head. Her finger began to tense on the trigger when she reconsidered. The fourth shot was unnecessary. If he wasn't already dead, he would be in a matter of seconds due to blood loss. Always the practical assassin, Laura clicked the safety back on and slipped the weapon into her coat pocket.
Efficiently, Laura unscrewed the mouthpiece of the phone and activated a small microchip, far advanced for its time, by reconnected a single green wire. The connection was made instantly. "Hello." She said in flawless Russian. "It is Huntress. I need an extraction team immediately."
"Copy Huntress, approximate ETA twelve minutes."
Laura set the phone back in its cradle without a word. She turned towards her daughter, startled when the child's eyes, now cold, met hers. It was as if those eyes were accusing her, confronting her, comprehending what had just happened. Chilled the core, Laura picked up Sydney, wrapping a thick blanket around her daughter. She did not pack bags, Laura knew they'd need nothing. She simply walked out the back door of the house, without a glance at the body that lay bleeding in her living room floor. The body of a man she'd married three years before. The body of a man she'd made love to, created a child with, created a life with.
It would be the last time Lara Petrova would ever step foot inside the United States.
A Mother's Daughter
December 15th, 1974
Charleston, West Virginia
The dying sunlight streaked over the sky, crimson and violet crashing together as the temperatures dropped. The sky was clear, a few small stars beginning to twinkle on as Laura Bristow, bundled against he biting wind, watched from her front porch.
Dusk had always, for as long as she could remember, been her favorite time of the day. She remembered sitting on her father's shoulders as they'd walked the streets of Moscow while they watched the sun dip beneath the tall office buildings. Those walks had become few and far between as the Cold War raged on, but she'd always watch the sunset from her bedroom window and pretend she was with her father.
A different country, a different season, a different life. What used to be skyscrapers were now replaced with craggy mountains. Her father was long since dead, so she now watched her sunsets alone.
The child in her lap gurgled happily. Not alone, Laura reminded herself. She now had a child to share her sunsets with. "Yes, Sydney, I know." Laura crooned into her child's ear. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" One plump arm shot into the air, grasping as if trying to touch something just out of reach. "You want to touch the stars, do you Syd?" Laura turned the child, hugging her to her chest tightly. "Will you bring Mommy home one? Will you bring me a star, sweetheart?"
Sydney curled her fingers around her mother's hair, and then laid her head on Laura's shoulder. Laura rocked back in forth in the wicker chair, they sat like that till the sky was dark, a sleeping child in her mother's arms.
Headlights sliced through the darkness like lasers, the car coming to a screeching halt in front of their house. Laura strained to see, rising to stand at the edge of the porch. "Jack?! Is that you?" She saw her husband's body move through the darkness without a word. "You're home early. I didn't expect you to be home until Friday night."
Jack stepped into the light of the front porch. "You bitch." He seemed to choke on the words. "You lying bitch."
Laura stared at Jack, bewildered a moment. Then, with her daughter's head cupped in her palm, realization flooded through her. "Not in front of the baby." Laura said simply, then turned and opened the front door, walking into the warm home silently. The screen door slammed behind her, then a moment later squeaked open again as her husband followed closely on her heels.
Laura laid Sydney down gently in the bassinette. The warm brown eyes of her daughter bore into hers, as if questioning her actions the same was her father was. Laura closed her eyes briefly, draining her mind of everything. Those who know her work knew that that's what she did before she completed an assignment.
Her mind was always devoid of all emotion when she killed.
Jack Bristow had no time to react when his wife spun, grabbing the gun from the holster under his arm. Instinctively, he made a grab for it, but it was already too late. Laura swept her legs under Jack, watching him crumble to the ground with blank disinterest.
The sound of her disengaging the safety was like an endless echo in Jack's head. "I'm sorry, Bristow, I really am." Her voice now carried a hint of her Russian childhood; one he'd only heard when she was extremely angry or extremely aroused. "I knew this day would come eventually, but I had hoped you'd be of more use to me before I had to end our…working relationship, if you will."
Jack inched back, feeling the panic rise in his throat. "Why?" He said, emotion slurring his words. "Why did you do this to us, to your country, to your child? Why did you do this to—" His body jerked when the first bullet plowed into his chest. A whistled breath escaped his lips as he collapsed backwards, head making a sickening sound as it met the hardwood floor.
Laura stepped forward and aimed, firing the second shot. Then the third. Jack Bristow moved no more.
She stood over the body watching as blood, thick and warm, began to run onto the floor. She leveled the gun once more, preparing for the final shot to the head. Her finger began to tense on the trigger when she reconsidered. The fourth shot was unnecessary. If he wasn't already dead, he would be in a matter of seconds due to blood loss. Always the practical assassin, Laura clicked the safety back on and slipped the weapon into her coat pocket.
Efficiently, Laura unscrewed the mouthpiece of the phone and activated a small microchip, far advanced for its time, by reconnected a single green wire. The connection was made instantly. "Hello." She said in flawless Russian. "It is Huntress. I need an extraction team immediately."
"Copy Huntress, approximate ETA twelve minutes."
Laura set the phone back in its cradle without a word. She turned towards her daughter, startled when the child's eyes, now cold, met hers. It was as if those eyes were accusing her, confronting her, comprehending what had just happened. Chilled the core, Laura picked up Sydney, wrapping a thick blanket around her daughter. She did not pack bags, Laura knew they'd need nothing. She simply walked out the back door of the house, without a glance at the body that lay bleeding in her living room floor. The body of a man she'd married three years before. The body of a man she'd made love to, created a child with, created a life with.
It would be the last time Lara Petrova would ever step foot inside the United States.