Title: Unraveling
Author: Emily O'Donnell
E-Mail: S/V, Angst
Summary: "The devil stands before me with his pitchfork and a demon who has disguised herself as an angel to pull me into the depths."
Disclaimer: These characters belong to J.J Abrams and ABC. Not me.
Timeline: Blood Ties
"While you are away - my heart comes undone,
Slowly unravels - in a ball of yarn,
The devil collects it with a grin -
our love, in a ball of yarn,
he'll never return it.
So when you come back,
We'll have to make new love." - Björk (Unravel)
–
When your eyes are full of blood, you can only see the images that have been burned into your brain. Memories that you have pushed down inside of your own mind, feelings that you try, in vain, to deny. When your body is stripped bare of clothing, pushed to the point of exhaustion, there is no shame. When your soul is stripped bare of pride and ego, there can no longer be any pretending.
I know that now.
I can feel the leather digging into my wrists, the blood and sweat as it drips from my forehead. I can feel the pain in my chest when I breathe, the shortage of air that never fully enters my lungs. I can feel the electricity crackling the hairs on my skin, it is eating away at me. I don't care anymore. This isn't about me.
Sark might be speaking, but I don't hear him. His words are hollow noise, incoherent to my deaf ears. He might be standing in front of me, but I can't see him. There is blood in my eyes and in the swirling patterns of my own life, all I can see is Sydney.
I'm so sorry, Sydney.
The electric paddle greets my body once more, below the ribs. Electricity surges through me and I'm sure that my voice cries out, a hoarse and broken cry of a man who has nothing left. My bones are rattling in my flesh, my mind goes utterly blank and all I know is the pain.
My eyes are closed, but I still see your face. It lingers on the back of my eyelids, like when you've stared at the sun for too long and it burns itself into your gaze. You were like the sun, so bright that it hurt to look directly into your fire. Now, after everything that you have endured, you have lost some of that light. Your eyes hold a darkness that scares me, but still, you are burned into my brain, my soul.
My skin is crackling, I can hear the cries of a broken man reverberating off of empty walls. It is only when they come back to me that I realize that it is my voice. It is only when the syllables finally become clear that I realize that I've been calling your name.
"Sydney..."
Mocking laughter floats across my blood stained skin, a soft breeze of Sark's breath as he leans close to me. If this was any other time in my life, I might have cared that I was displaying weakness in front of this man. It doesn't matter now, nothing matters.
"Your precious Sydney will not save you this time, Agent Vaughn," he sneers at me. Then the paddle strikes again, harder than before. Back arching convulsively, blood streaming from the open wound, warm and sticky on my bare skin. Images flash through my mind with every wave of pain.
Red hair, bruised face, split lip. You barely glanced at me except to glare fiercely and demand a new pen. I think I may have loved you then, your courage, your insanity, your determination.
Skin crackling, my jaw is clenched so tightly I think I can hear a tooth crack. Blood fills my mouth, sharp and sweet in my throat. I swallow hard and keep my mouth shut, I dare not call out for you again.
My mind is slipping beyond my control, flickering between carefully filed memories of you. You are bringing me strength in this dark hour, when I need you most but dare not admit to it. Between the pain, the blood and the sweat, the sweetness of you rises in my memory, and the pain comes with it.
Your dark eyes that challenged me so often. A smell of smoke thick in my nostrils.
A casual tuck of hair behind your ear as you smiled hesitantly up at me. A flicker of unconsciousness lurking in the back of my brain, threatening to overtake me.
The way that I could always see the sadness in your eyes. The blood that flowed into mine.
The way that you looked at me across the wreckage of your life and embraced me, lips meeting mine so easily. My lips are cracked now, bloody and broken, just like the rest of me.
The silly words that you spoke in your sleep. How I had always treasured those moments late at night when I would hear you murmur something against my skin. The unintelligible words of Sark in this moment buzz around my head, never fully working their way into my ears.
The paddle digs deeper into my skin, branding me for with this shame. I can feel the skin melting like soft plastic over a fire, the edges burning to a crisp. It is an unbelievably sharp sensation against the haze of pain that overwhelms me.
My mind reels back and I struggle to hold onto the memory of you, curled up against me in the early morning light. The image fades slowly, to be replaced by the look in your eyes when I found you in Hong Kong. The expression on your face, betrayal.
Sark is screaming at me, beating me now with the electric paddle. Sharp flashes of agony land all across the bare flesh of my back and my knees buckle. Head dangling down limply, blood dripping to the floor to paint a picture of my pain.
I betrayed you, Sydney. I swore never to hurt you and I did. This must be my punishment. I was weak where you were always strong, I gave up.
While you were away, my heart came undone. It has unraveled and lies now in pieces on the floor. My blood stains this dirty ground and as it does, I realize that I've lost myself.
The devil stands before me with his pitchfork and a demon who disguised herself as an angel to pull me into the depths. She tried to steal my love, collect the threads and sew them into her own heart. But I know better now, I know that she has no heart.
I swear to you, Sydney that if I survive this, I'll make it up to you. We will make new love, start over again.
The electric shocks sizzle through me, but the pain is nothing compared to the anguish of my soul. I have betrayed you.
Crack of my ribs as the paddle slams against them. Your eyes come up from the depths, accusing me of things that I denied so vehemently. I was wrong.
Snap of a bone as Sark crushes my hand, I don't even know if I react. I'm lost now, there is no longer any sense in this. All I can see is you.
There is blood in my eyes, blinding me to the two people in the room. Blinding me to my own shame, and as the electricity sizzles through my flesh I feel myself slipping into oblivion. I can only hope that you are there with me.
I open my eyes to find a demon wiping the blood from my face. I feel my features contort into rage, painfully stretching open fresh wounds in my flesh. I feel a trickle of blood slide down my forehead and she moves to wipe it away. I jerk away from her, the touch of her fingers on my flesh burn me more painfully than any touch of that electric paddle.
"Don't touch me," I spit the words at her, unable to look into her face. Unable to face my greatest mistake.
"Michael, please," she lets out a soft sigh and tries to move back toward me but I swing my head up with effort. The look in my eyes stops her in her tracks, I wonder what she must see. I have no energy left to pretend. I wonder if she sees the pure hatred I feel for her, the disgust, the anger. I wonder if she can see my desire to see her blood spilled on this floor, instead of mine. I wonder when I became so filled with rage. But I know.
"You are nothing," I let the words drop from my lips like the blood that falls to the floor. I seal these words with my blood. There is not even any anger in my voice when I speak, these are merely facts that I must let her know.
"I always loved Sydney," I wonder what you would think if you could see me now, Syd.
"You were only sloppy seconds," I spit at her and feel a grim satisfaction as it lands on her cheek, blood spraying her unmarred flesh. "You are not even a pale shadow of Sydney in every way, and you know it," I see her eyes tremble and I realize that I've struck a nerve. I smile cruelly, a harsh baring of the teeth. "And that kills you," I whisper with some degree of satisfaction.
Her jaw clenches in anger and her eyes flash with fire, but she doesn't reach out and strike me. I know what game she and Sark are playing at, good cop and bad cop. She's really very transparent, an awful spy. I am ashamed of myself that I never saw through her act.
"Sark is going to give you the Inferno Protocol. You can't survive, not now, not everything you've been through." She is trying to act compassionate, caring toward me. I can hear the anger in her voice, the hatred in her eyes. We were both putting on a charade for so long, finally I have dropped the mask. She still tries to keep it up, but fails miserably.
I glare at her beneath heavy eyelids and dripping sweat, "Why do you care?"
She steels herself and I see her eyes soften, doe-like with fake innocence. My stomach churns as she blinks up at me, feigning love. "Not everything was a lie," her voice is breathy and for a moment, I could almost believe her if I wanted to delude myself. But I don't. I won't be the fool ever again.
I sneer at her, disgusted by this little show and shake my head. "Go run back to your master like the dog that you are, whore." Her jaw clenches and she snaps, a fist swinging out to connect with my face. My head snaps back and I let out a low laugh that rumbles through the room. Finally, we are being honest with each other. Then she is gone, and so am I.
I fade slowly back into darkness, and still I think of you.
I wake up in the hospital.
The events of the past few hours, or have they been days? I don't know anymore, they have all blurred together in my mind. There was a truck and an explosion, there was blood and pain and you lingered constantly in my thoughts.
I wake up and still the pain lingers in my flesh, but the haze has cleared somewhat from my mind. My eyes are no longer full of blood. When I open them, I see an angel standing over me.
You say my name so softly that I think I might be dreaming, were it not for the quaver of your voice. The familiar sadness in your eyes. Oh, Sydney. Do you know how much it pains me that I have your sadness memorized?
The sight of you eases all pain, clears all thought and I reach out for your hand instinctively. You look surprised when I grasp your fingers tightly, as if I'm afraid that you might disappear. I am afraid. I don't ever want to lose you again.
"Sydney," my voice is a harsh whisper, throat scraped raw from screaming your name into the darkness. "Are you all right?"
There is a vague surprise in your eyes as you glance over me, obviously taking in the extent of my injuries. Yes, Sydney, this pain means nothing to me. I would cut my heart out if it meant that you were safe. I know that now.
"I'm fine," is what you say. There is so much hidden in your words that I long to peel back the layers and uncover what you really mean. Oh, Sydney, the conversations we hold in the silence between what we really say. You're not fine, neither of us are. I know you better than that.
"The passenger," is what I find myself saying. "Did you find her?"
"Yes, but she's gone," your eyes cloud over and I know that you are reliving some events unknown to me. It kills me that I couldn't be there to help you.
"She's gone missing," is how you finish the sentence. I squeeze my eyes shut briefly, trying to sort out these jumbled thoughts that crowd my head.
"You can't go after her," am I betraying you again? How much more will be taken from you?
Sure enough, your eyes widen, "What?"
My grip on your hand tightens and I want to let it go, apologize for this but I cannot. I won't risk you. "Your sister, you have to let her go."
Your eyes darken and I see you begin to draw away from me before your grip on my hand even loosens. "You're tired," is what you say as your eyes avoid mine. "I should let you sleep."
I grip your hand tighter and struggle to pull you back to me, but I'm too weak. You don't leave though. "No, my father was killed because he took her from the KGB, he hid her from your mother. That's why she murdered him," I swallow hard and struggle to gain the strength to convince you of this.
"I met someone who told me the prophecy," the memories are fuzzy but as the words spill from my lips, I am convinced that they are true. "The Passenger and the Chosen One shall battle, neither will survive. Sydney, you can't see her again."
The sadness in your eyes is growing, compounded by an uneasy fear. I'm so sorry, Sydney. I never wanted to hurt you again.
I grip your hand tighter and tug you closer to me. I struggle to lift my other hand and reach up to touch you but I can't. There is a distance between us that I cannot begin to close in my weakened state but I swear that I will find a way.
"Sydney," your gaze returns to me from the world inside yourself that grows increasingly more complex with every passing moment. There is heartache in you that is mirrored in my broken form. I swallow hard and try to steady my voice, issue some strength into my words.
"I don't want to lose you," my words are broken and I know that I have failed at the strength. I am weak, I am broken before you, Sydney. Only you can fix me.
Your eyes soften and you take a small step forward, easing down onto the edge of the bed. There are tears in your eyes, they cast a thin veil over the shadows I find there. I want to put the light back into your gaze, Sydney. I want to put the brightness back into your smile. Tell me, what can I do to fix you?
You lean over and brush your fingers lightly over my face, fingertips skittering across fresh bruises and wounds. I close my eyes, savoring the moment, your touch on my skin. When your fingers pull away, I am cold without your warmth. Then you lean forward and press a soft kiss to my forehead. The touch of your lips on my skin has been sorely missed and as I open my eyes, I see your tears drip onto the cracks in my flesh.
You smile sadly at me, your eyes filled with pain and I reach out to touch your face gently. It is so simple, this exchange of affection, but it is enough. You raise one hand to grip mine where it cups your face and we stay this way for a long time. Eyes fixed and voices silent, speaking only in silence.
It is now that I know that we will heal, we will find a way.
Only when your vision clears, will you be able to see what is truly in front of you.
Fin.