Fidêlis
By Calypso
Spoilers:
Sequel info: None
Rating PG.
Summary: Sarah is hurt and lost now she ponders whom it is she can trust.
Authors note: This is one of my weekly-snapshots, I hope someone's reading this. I still have to write one for episode eight... Lack of inspiration to be honest. The title means 'to trust in'. BTW would anyone care for a sequel to Les Yuex de le chat?
Life is never what we perceive it to be. Neither are the people in it who we conceive them to be. I was always Wary of whom it was I trusted, but never have I been so confused as to whether some one was friend or foe. Or blood of my blood perhaps? I feel sympathy for Ian; his entire life has probably been spent within the confines of Irons hands, but it is that sympathy that gives me the insight I need, that tells me I just can't trust him because he belongs to Irons. Jackass. I can never think kindly on Irons, what he has done to Ian is only a fraction of the darkness he holds, he tries to gain control of me, he tried to mask it as love. I see it as obsession, a desire to own me. Yet despite this, or perhaps in spite of it, I find myself forced to turn to him time after time. Ironic isn't it?
Disgusting really. Perhaps Dante is one of his bastard children… some traits are certainly there, but Dante lacks cunning, lacks sophistication. I felt it that night I went to kill him, in his total perverseness a part of him felt excitement. Whatever else Irons may be, he isn't the base, dirty animal that Dante is, and because he isn't neither is Ian.
It's odd how many men there are in my life and out of all of them the only one I care to trust is powerless to help me. I don't know what to do… I just feel so lost, so alone. It's almost enough to drive back to Irons, but that's where Jake comes in. I wonder what Jake is thinking, how much of this does he truly understand? I wonder if he knew what he did when he shot Ian, why Ian just stood there and let him do it. Jake may not be telling me everything, but in the insanity I call me life, he's the steadying hand that holds me. Not the pillar of strength Danny was only a fraction of that really… but just enough to keep me clinging desperately to sanity. Or maybe I'm past sanity… way past it. Maybe, I'm already lost. Already doomed to a living hell.