Title: Inescapable Transgressions
Author: Ahuri
E-mail: ahuri_enfant@hotmail.com
Feedback: Yes, please!
Distribution: Ask first, please. C/D May Challenge.
Disclaimer: I don't own Alias, Sydney, etc.
Summary: What do you live for when all you were living for is gone?
Rating: G
Classification: Angst
A/N: Thanks so much to Emily for beta reading this!! Sorry bout the weird, unrelated title.
Inescapable Transgressions
//What do you live for when all you were living for is gone?//
The sun rises and the alarm clock rings, but she is not in bed to hear it. Travel
down the hallway, through the kitchen, and into the den. She is not there, either. Go out
the door and through the town, and find the pier. A foggy halo shrouds the water, and the
gray light of dawn lights up the boardwalk in a stark relief. A lone figure sits on a
bench. It is she – she has been there all night. Her glassy eyes stare blankly
ahead, giving her the aura of one already dead. Perhaps she is – there is nothing keeping
her on earth. Inevitably, morning dawns, and she is rudely called back to the pretense she
calls life.
She has already been out of work for two weeks, because of a nasty bout of the
"flu" and a broken wrist received from a "fall" down a flight of stairs. She only notices
her broken soul. Sloane is suspicious but doesn't question her. Dixon has kept silent
since their confrontation, but she doesn't care. She doesn't care – that is the new mantra
of her life. She doesn't care that her mom is alive, or that she has been invited to join her
rogue intelligence group. She doesn't care that she is at a dangerous risk of being
exposed. She doesn't care that Vaughn is dead. But there her mantra fails her – she does
care that Vaughn is dead. She cares too much, and it is eating her alive.
Today is – was – Emily Sloane's birthday. She is surprised she remembers. It
used to be a happy day, filled with love and laughter and happiness. Now, it only serves
to remind her of what she has lost. Emily's memory brings a smile to her face, but it
lacks vitality or warmth. She can remember their last conversation with crystal clarity.
Emily had asked her about love, and Sydney, the enamored schoolgirl that she was, had
answered with silence and a telltale blush. Emily smiled and told her that she should
whisk him away to Paris to win his heart. She had shaken her head, aching to tell her that
that wasn't possible, never would be possible. She wishes now that she had taken him to
Paris, danger be damned. That is the truth, and sometimes, the truth hurts. This time, it
hurts so badly that she prefers the lies, because the truth tells her that he is gone, and she
will not accept that.
Tomorrow she goes back to work. Sloane has assured her that her first mission
back will be easy – a trade in London, a drop-off in Memphis, and she'll be home for
supper. She doesn't care – she'd rather something dangerous. Get the adrenaline
flowing. Perhaps then she could feel alive. Now, she doesn't know what she is – alive,
dead, it all feels the same to her. Except that they aren't the same. Because she is alive,
and he is dead, and she can't cross the boundary between the two.
Tomorrow when she goes back to work, she will put on a smile and make
polite conversation with her coworkers. She will joke with Marshall and act concerned
for Sloane. But inside, she will be dying. She is already dead.
What do you live for when all you were living for is gone?
She doesn't know.
Author: Ahuri
E-mail: ahuri_enfant@hotmail.com
Feedback: Yes, please!
Distribution: Ask first, please. C/D May Challenge.
Disclaimer: I don't own Alias, Sydney, etc.
Summary: What do you live for when all you were living for is gone?
Rating: G
Classification: Angst
A/N: Thanks so much to Emily for beta reading this!! Sorry bout the weird, unrelated title.
Inescapable Transgressions
//What do you live for when all you were living for is gone?//
The sun rises and the alarm clock rings, but she is not in bed to hear it. Travel
down the hallway, through the kitchen, and into the den. She is not there, either. Go out
the door and through the town, and find the pier. A foggy halo shrouds the water, and the
gray light of dawn lights up the boardwalk in a stark relief. A lone figure sits on a
bench. It is she – she has been there all night. Her glassy eyes stare blankly
ahead, giving her the aura of one already dead. Perhaps she is – there is nothing keeping
her on earth. Inevitably, morning dawns, and she is rudely called back to the pretense she
calls life.
She has already been out of work for two weeks, because of a nasty bout of the
"flu" and a broken wrist received from a "fall" down a flight of stairs. She only notices
her broken soul. Sloane is suspicious but doesn't question her. Dixon has kept silent
since their confrontation, but she doesn't care. She doesn't care – that is the new mantra
of her life. She doesn't care that her mom is alive, or that she has been invited to join her
rogue intelligence group. She doesn't care that she is at a dangerous risk of being
exposed. She doesn't care that Vaughn is dead. But there her mantra fails her – she does
care that Vaughn is dead. She cares too much, and it is eating her alive.
Today is – was – Emily Sloane's birthday. She is surprised she remembers. It
used to be a happy day, filled with love and laughter and happiness. Now, it only serves
to remind her of what she has lost. Emily's memory brings a smile to her face, but it
lacks vitality or warmth. She can remember their last conversation with crystal clarity.
Emily had asked her about love, and Sydney, the enamored schoolgirl that she was, had
answered with silence and a telltale blush. Emily smiled and told her that she should
whisk him away to Paris to win his heart. She had shaken her head, aching to tell her that
that wasn't possible, never would be possible. She wishes now that she had taken him to
Paris, danger be damned. That is the truth, and sometimes, the truth hurts. This time, it
hurts so badly that she prefers the lies, because the truth tells her that he is gone, and she
will not accept that.
Tomorrow she goes back to work. Sloane has assured her that her first mission
back will be easy – a trade in London, a drop-off in Memphis, and she'll be home for
supper. She doesn't care – she'd rather something dangerous. Get the adrenaline
flowing. Perhaps then she could feel alive. Now, she doesn't know what she is – alive,
dead, it all feels the same to her. Except that they aren't the same. Because she is alive,
and he is dead, and she can't cross the boundary between the two.
Tomorrow when she goes back to work, she will put on a smile and make
polite conversation with her coworkers. She will joke with Marshall and act concerned
for Sloane. But inside, she will be dying. She is already dead.
What do you live for when all you were living for is gone?
She doesn't know.