Tomorrow's Promise
Disclaimer: Everything Alias is the property of JJ Abrams, Bad Robot Productions, ABC, and Touchstone. Please consider this a humble tribute to the genius of the Alias characters and plotlines. No harm intended.
The titles for some of the chapters are from Police songs. Again, no harm intended. The lyrics of these songs seemed to relate to the story I wanted to tell.
Rating: PG for mild language.
Archive: Please ask first.
Feedback: Appreciated, especially on writing techniques.
Every Breath You Take
Sydney woke up suddenly with the feeling that she was being watched. Slowly her surroundings came into focus. Her heartbeat accelerated as did the throbbing in her head. A man, Alex Khasinau, was staring at her from a chair directly opposite of her. In his hands he held a plate full of food and a fork. She instinctively pulled at the metal that bound her to the chair, hoping that by some miracle she would be able to get her hands on the man. Khasinau watched her futile struggle. Sydney gave up and locked eyes with him. For several moments they stared at each other, neither one wanting to be the first to look away. This was as much of a standoff as she was capable of at the moment. Finally, as Sydney watched him, he stabbed some food with the fork and offered it to her.
"You should eat," he said.
After a moment's pause, Sydney said, "I'm not hungry."
Khasinau shrugged as though to say, "Suit yourself", got up from the chair and started to walk away.
"Wait! Wait!" Sydney yelled. When he turned back to face her she said "You're Alex Khasinau." Khasinau nodded his head slightly. "I have questions for you."
"I expect you do," he replied. "However, my employer is probably the only person that can answer your questions."
"I thought you were 'The Man'," Sydney said
"No. That is my employer".
Khasinau left the room and a woman entered. As she approached Sydney she said, "I've been waiting almost 30 years for this…"
Sydney's heart caught in her throat as the woman came into the light and she recognized her face. It was as if Sydney was looking in a mirror twenty years in the future – the woman looked very much like Sydney, only older.
"Mom?"
Ever since Sydney realized that her mother was still alive, she had wanted to find her. In fact, the real motivation behind her wanting to find Khasinau was that Sydney knew he would have information about her mother. But not once in these many months of chasing Khasinau, had Sydney thought about what she would say to her mother if she found her.
"Yes, it's me, Sydney."
Sydney's emotions exploded. At first she felt joy – joy to finally confirm that the mother she had lost so many years ago was still alive. But joy quickly yielded to anger. Sydney thought about what this woman had done to her father, and what she had done to her. The anger was merely an opening act for the hate that engulfed Sydney. When Sydney counted all the deaths that this woman had a hand in – civilians, CIA agents, Vaughn's father… and… and now Vaughn – it sickened her. It was the hate that Sydney held on to.
Sydney chose her words carefully. "What do you want from me?"
Irina let out a short laugh. "You come face to face with your dead mother and that is the question you want answered?
"I expected questions on why I betrayed your father," Irina paused briefly.
"Questions on how could I abandon you," again Irina paused briefly as if she were giving Sydney a chance to comment.
"Questions on whether it was all just an act."
The room was deadly quiet. Irina studied the face of her daughter, wondering if she had underestimated her.
Finally Sydney said, "You know, I thought those were the questions I wanted answered too. But now that I'm here, I realize that I really don't care about any of that. None of that matters to me any more. I'm just here doing my job. And my job is to find out why you are trying to take down the Alliance, what you're planning to do with Rambaldi's works, and what you're planning on doing with me."
Irina stared at Sydney. She was surprised that Sydney's words had hurt her. Irina thought she had hardened her heart to such things long ago.
Irina skillfully hid her emotions. "Those are equally interesting questions, my dear. You will get your answers in the coming months as you are assimilated into our organization."
"Wh-What?" Sydney exclaimed.
Irina smiled. "I have kept track of you all your life, Sydney. I was the reason you were recruited by SD-6. But I never expected that you would join the CIA too.
"You're a talented agent. You're an asset to both SD-6 and the CIA. And I know you will be an excellent asset for us. Imagine, Sydney, what you and I can accomplish together."
Sydney was dumbfounded, and the look on her face showed it. Finally she said, "You know, they have doctors that could help you with your delusions."
Irina laughed. "No, seriously," Sydney continued, "What in the world makes you think that I would ever join your organization?"
"I know you, Sydney." Irina stood up and moved closer to her. She smiled at Sydney approvingly and put her hand on Sydney's shoulder. "You're my daughter."
Sydney's emotions churned again and she was momentarily at a loss for words. Irina turned and walked casually out of the room. By the time Sydney was able to say anything, it was too late.
"You don't know anything about me!" Sydney yelled at the invisible wake her mother had left.
Sydney let out a short, frustrated scream and pulled at the chains that held her to the chair with all her strength. Knowing it would do no good, Sydney stopped fighting and slumped in the chair. Her mind was spinning, her head was pounding, and her emotions threatened to consume her.
After a few minutes, Sark entered the room carrying a syringe filled with colorless liquid. He smiled at her.
"Ah, Agent Bristow, we meet again."
"Perfect." Sydney said sarcastically as Sark approached her. "Just perfect."
Sark stuck the needle into her arm and pushed the colorless fluid directly into her blood stream.
"There we go," he said as he removed the needle and took a small step back to look at her face.
"You know, Agent Bristow," Sark put his hand at the back of her neck and pushed his fingers under her wig and up into her hair. Sydney looked up at him with a deadly stare.
"Blue really isn't your color."
Sark pulled the wig off her head, gave her a wink and a smile, and left the room.
By the time she heard the lock turning in the heavy door, Sydney was already feeling drowsy. Her head wobbled on her neck and she suddenly felt nauseous. She fought to remain conscious but to no avail. As everything faded to black, a series of images flashed in her mind: her father… Will… Vaughn… Noah… Sark… her mother smiling at her.
Disclaimer: Everything Alias is the property of JJ Abrams, Bad Robot Productions, ABC, and Touchstone. Please consider this a humble tribute to the genius of the Alias characters and plotlines. No harm intended.
The titles for some of the chapters are from Police songs. Again, no harm intended. The lyrics of these songs seemed to relate to the story I wanted to tell.
Rating: PG for mild language.
Archive: Please ask first.
Feedback: Appreciated, especially on writing techniques.
Every Breath You Take
Sydney woke up suddenly with the feeling that she was being watched. Slowly her surroundings came into focus. Her heartbeat accelerated as did the throbbing in her head. A man, Alex Khasinau, was staring at her from a chair directly opposite of her. In his hands he held a plate full of food and a fork. She instinctively pulled at the metal that bound her to the chair, hoping that by some miracle she would be able to get her hands on the man. Khasinau watched her futile struggle. Sydney gave up and locked eyes with him. For several moments they stared at each other, neither one wanting to be the first to look away. This was as much of a standoff as she was capable of at the moment. Finally, as Sydney watched him, he stabbed some food with the fork and offered it to her.
"You should eat," he said.
After a moment's pause, Sydney said, "I'm not hungry."
Khasinau shrugged as though to say, "Suit yourself", got up from the chair and started to walk away.
"Wait! Wait!" Sydney yelled. When he turned back to face her she said "You're Alex Khasinau." Khasinau nodded his head slightly. "I have questions for you."
"I expect you do," he replied. "However, my employer is probably the only person that can answer your questions."
"I thought you were 'The Man'," Sydney said
"No. That is my employer".
Khasinau left the room and a woman entered. As she approached Sydney she said, "I've been waiting almost 30 years for this…"
Sydney's heart caught in her throat as the woman came into the light and she recognized her face. It was as if Sydney was looking in a mirror twenty years in the future – the woman looked very much like Sydney, only older.
"Mom?"
Ever since Sydney realized that her mother was still alive, she had wanted to find her. In fact, the real motivation behind her wanting to find Khasinau was that Sydney knew he would have information about her mother. But not once in these many months of chasing Khasinau, had Sydney thought about what she would say to her mother if she found her.
"Yes, it's me, Sydney."
Sydney's emotions exploded. At first she felt joy – joy to finally confirm that the mother she had lost so many years ago was still alive. But joy quickly yielded to anger. Sydney thought about what this woman had done to her father, and what she had done to her. The anger was merely an opening act for the hate that engulfed Sydney. When Sydney counted all the deaths that this woman had a hand in – civilians, CIA agents, Vaughn's father… and… and now Vaughn – it sickened her. It was the hate that Sydney held on to.
Sydney chose her words carefully. "What do you want from me?"
Irina let out a short laugh. "You come face to face with your dead mother and that is the question you want answered?
"I expected questions on why I betrayed your father," Irina paused briefly.
"Questions on how could I abandon you," again Irina paused briefly as if she were giving Sydney a chance to comment.
"Questions on whether it was all just an act."
The room was deadly quiet. Irina studied the face of her daughter, wondering if she had underestimated her.
Finally Sydney said, "You know, I thought those were the questions I wanted answered too. But now that I'm here, I realize that I really don't care about any of that. None of that matters to me any more. I'm just here doing my job. And my job is to find out why you are trying to take down the Alliance, what you're planning to do with Rambaldi's works, and what you're planning on doing with me."
Irina stared at Sydney. She was surprised that Sydney's words had hurt her. Irina thought she had hardened her heart to such things long ago.
Irina skillfully hid her emotions. "Those are equally interesting questions, my dear. You will get your answers in the coming months as you are assimilated into our organization."
"Wh-What?" Sydney exclaimed.
Irina smiled. "I have kept track of you all your life, Sydney. I was the reason you were recruited by SD-6. But I never expected that you would join the CIA too.
"You're a talented agent. You're an asset to both SD-6 and the CIA. And I know you will be an excellent asset for us. Imagine, Sydney, what you and I can accomplish together."
Sydney was dumbfounded, and the look on her face showed it. Finally she said, "You know, they have doctors that could help you with your delusions."
Irina laughed. "No, seriously," Sydney continued, "What in the world makes you think that I would ever join your organization?"
"I know you, Sydney." Irina stood up and moved closer to her. She smiled at Sydney approvingly and put her hand on Sydney's shoulder. "You're my daughter."
Sydney's emotions churned again and she was momentarily at a loss for words. Irina turned and walked casually out of the room. By the time Sydney was able to say anything, it was too late.
"You don't know anything about me!" Sydney yelled at the invisible wake her mother had left.
Sydney let out a short, frustrated scream and pulled at the chains that held her to the chair with all her strength. Knowing it would do no good, Sydney stopped fighting and slumped in the chair. Her mind was spinning, her head was pounding, and her emotions threatened to consume her.
After a few minutes, Sark entered the room carrying a syringe filled with colorless liquid. He smiled at her.
"Ah, Agent Bristow, we meet again."
"Perfect." Sydney said sarcastically as Sark approached her. "Just perfect."
Sark stuck the needle into her arm and pushed the colorless fluid directly into her blood stream.
"There we go," he said as he removed the needle and took a small step back to look at her face.
"You know, Agent Bristow," Sark put his hand at the back of her neck and pushed his fingers under her wig and up into her hair. Sydney looked up at him with a deadly stare.
"Blue really isn't your color."
Sark pulled the wig off her head, gave her a wink and a smile, and left the room.
By the time she heard the lock turning in the heavy door, Sydney was already feeling drowsy. Her head wobbled on her neck and she suddenly felt nauseous. She fought to remain conscious but to no avail. As everything faded to black, a series of images flashed in her mind: her father… Will… Vaughn… Noah… Sark… her mother smiling at her.