Chapter Twelve – Ballad for Dead Friends
How are you feeling?
Do you feel ok?
Cos I don't

It keeps me reelin'
Will I ever be the same?
No I won't

The anger he had been feeling for the past … how many days was it now? Three? Four? Seven? However long it had been, it had been too long – in fact it shouldn't have been long in the first place, it shouldn't even have happened – but nevertheless the anger he had been feeling for the last while filtered back to the forefront of his mind. The anger. It was like an entity. It seemed to be the only thing that defined him these days – his anger. It didn't bother him, it was merely a catalyst in his proceedings – and if it made it all seem more fulfilling, made it all the more easier to execute, made it all the more easier to dull the pain of yet another loss; then who was he to argue. In fact, he'd be happy to increase the anger if it meant it cancelled out the pain he was made to feel everyday. But it never would – the pain was too great now, he doubted it would ever disappear. So all he could do was live with the anger – embrace it, and use it to his advantage, and make sure it didn't completely destroy him along with the rest.

He raised himself up from the sofa of another room; at another safe house; in another country. His ribs ached slightly as he did so, but it was just the sign of another job completed, and it added to the anger in trying to dull the anguish. Kept him knowing he was still alive – if only as a body, a shell, an entity. It didn't matter what he felt in the long run, she had deserved to live, and they stole that from her, him; they stole that from them both – there was no other choice but to make them suffer for it. It didn't matter how, as long as it was painful – as painful as what he had to endure everyday of his existence without them. They had to die. There was no other way.

Its a cold day in a cruel world

As he walked into the bathroom, the harsh light from the cheap fluorescent lighting bore down on him; he ignored it, intent on checking over the damage the little mutt had done to him.

His reflection stared intently back at him, as he inspected each bruise, each mark, each cut, each stain on his otherwise perfect skin – but they were battle scars he was proud to have.

Yet, they also meant he'd have to work harder; he was getting sloppy, he couldn't afford to act rashly – ever. If he died before he'd finished it all, finally given her justice, he was no better than the rest of them. He would have achieved nothing, and it would have all been for nothing.

No, he would not fail. Not in this. This, he would finish, and he would make sure they were all where they belonged, before ending it all – he would make sure they were all dead. The way they fucking belonged, he thought to himself.

I really wished I could have saved you
Then who would save me from myself?
Right now, well, I could use a stiff drink
To kill the pain that's deep inside my bones

Anger suddenly raged within him, both at his physical signs of weakness, as well as their continual existence. He punched the mirror violently, as if it had jumped out and tried to attack him.

The temper wasn't new, either.

Shards of glass flew everywhere, but he didn't care. His hand was cut in multiple places, clear slivers peaking out from broken skin, and red surrounding them, but he didn't care.

He watched a small trickle of blood as it rolled down his palm and dripped from his fingers into a small puddle on the white porcelain sink. The thin red stream meandered its way down the tile slope before finally coming to the metal of the drain, where it disappeared into the drop of the black abyss below.

If only he could've been so lucky.

But it was nice to know that he could still bleed. Good to know, he was still human somewhere deep within the monster that had seemed to resurface in greater magnitude than ever before. And it was a comfort to know he was alive – after all it seemed to be the only difference between him and the rest. He needed to keep that distinction.

He couldn't be the same as them. If he was, he might as well have been the one that ordered the hit, he might as well have been the one that freed Espinosa, he might as well have pulled the trigger himself, he might as well have been the bullet that pierced her perfect little heart.

No, he was alive, and they were dead … but then, so was she.

And with that thought running through his head, he knew he wouldn't be sleeping tonight.

Besides, he still had work to do.

Have you been dreaming?
I don't dream at all
I have nightmares
Memories careenin'
Have you come to kill what's left
Of my smile

James walked into his apartment, unhinged by the darkness it harboured and welcoming the silence it brought. Closing the door behind him, he dropped his keys on the table as soon as he went in, and moved to flick the switch by the mirror above.

A shadow in the corner had enveloped the environment with open arms – and when it was about to be disturbed it launched itself forward.

Suddenly James was against the wall, and a knife was slammed through his hand with such force that it instantly drained the colour from his features.

"Evening James", a chilling voice greeted in his ear, before swiftly smashing his head into the plaster.

"Julian", the Intelligence Agent breathed out, turning round to face his old friend.

"Not anymore, James. Julian's dead", the blonde answered, "Now it's just Sark."

And his eyes glinted menacingly in the moonlight, as a cold smile crept across his face, "And we both know how he likes to play."

There's no vacancy in paradise

Jack opened the door to the briefing room and grabbed him, immediately slamming his body up against the glass wall and pressing his face roughly into it.

"You Son of a Bitch!" he gritted out angrily, unable to control himself any longer.

"She was just a child", Jack said, becoming further enraged by the minute.

"She was involved in the prophecy, Jack!" Sloane told him, as if that was answer enough for his acts, "She was going to be the catalyst in Rambaldi's endgame – she had to be eliminated, Jack, she had to!"

Jack's eyes narrowed as he looked at his old friend.

"You also seem to be conveniently forgetting whose child she was", Sloane added, his tone appearing to reprimand the other man, "There's no telling what damage she could've inflicted on us – any of us, Jack. None."

"Well then I suppose if that was your reasoning, we should have just killed Sydney and Nadia at birth too, and any other child born under a Government Agent for that matter – especially since you seem to have recruited half the country into some form of defective espionage over the years", Jack answered him bitingly.

"She was part of the prophecy, dad", Sydney's voice joined them after a moment of silence.

Jack's questioning eyes shot towards her, so did Sloane's surprised ones, as well as the mixture of confused and shocked looks from the other occupants in the room.

"Rambaldi's endgame was going to come about through mom. And whom she cared about the most", Sydney said then.

Jack let out a breath, voicing softly, "Avalon."

I really wished I could have saved you
Then who would have saved me from myself
Right now, well, I could use a stiff drink
To kill the pain that's deep inside my bones

Sydney nodded, "She was the key to all Rambaldi's predetermined works, and mom could only bring the 'peace' if her DNA and that of Rambaldi's was combined with Avalon's. They said I was supposed to bring utter desolation, kill Nadia etcetera, but mom was able to bring peace. The outer arrows in the Rambaldi eye – mom was said to have claimed they represented her two daughters, and the circle in between them what they would fight over. From what we could tell, that was true. But so long as the one that meant most to her was still alive and with her, mom would be able to bring the peace Rambaldi claimed her to possess. We all thought for so long that I was the one who meant most to mom – her only daughter. And then Nadia came along, and that view was split between us. There was also you, dad, we knew after all these years that you and mom still loved each other – despite all that had happened. But we were all wrong. It was Avalon who really meant most to her."

And some tears spilled down her cheeks then, making Jack step towards her as he said softly, "Sydney."

She shook her head, wiping them away, "No, I'm not bitter. I guess mom felt she had another chance with her – another shot at being a 'mother' … of sorts anyway, and not screwing it up like she'd done with us. I'm just sorry that a little girl had to die because of how mom felt about her."

"Actually, Sydney", a voice broke in, "You're only somewhat correct there."

I really wished I could have saved you
Then who would have saved me from myself
I really wished I could have saved you

And all eyes shot across to the young Brit who had joined them, "It was actually your mother's willingness to sacrifice herself for Ava, which made her the key to all of Rambaldi's work. Because in that moment, she became the only person whom Irina Derevko had ever truly been willing to give her life and soul for – and that was why he killed her."

"Mars", Jack said, doing nothing to hide the suspicion in his voice, "What are you doing here?"

"We've come to take what we're owed, Jack", the younger man merely replied.

And then a cold smile crept across his face as he pointed his gun directly in front of him, and said, "We've come for him."

I'll never forget you
I'll never forget you
I'll never forget you
I'll never forget you

I really wished I could have saved you
I really wished I could have saved you
I really wished I could have saved you
I really wished I could have saved you


Song: 'Ballad For Dead Friends' by Dashboard Prophets

A/N: Ok so I know the whole Rambaldi, killing Avalon thing was completely AU, but I wrote it before the finale, an just didn't change it – so it stays – also I hadn't really seen much of S5 when I wrote it, hence all the wrong info, an why I kept putting 'supposed to' to show how they used ta think that stuff – plus this is meant ta be set in S4, so yeah…

Thanks for reading, and please leave a review - even a wee one! - it means a lot.
Steph
xxx
:D