Phoebsfan
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Archive: CD anyone else ask please.
Summery: Cat and Mouse. Clocks and Guns. What happens when your lies come undone?
Rating: PG
Category: Action/Angst/Romance
Timeline: Frankly I'm totally disregarding any Noah developments…skipping Taipei but Will is informed of Syd's little secret.
AN: evil muse of mine is begging that I share this with you before I finish Lucky Ones. I'm multi-tasking…live with it… Also this is unbeta'ed any mistakes are purely mine and mine alone.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The old weathered hands move so slowly, as if time itself were refusing to put the past behind, afraid of that next new second where anything could happen. The pendulum swinging freely back and forth, not knowing that with it's every swing it was bringing itself closer to death.
The wood casing, chipped on the bottom right corner where she had run into it on her roller skates when she was five. Daddy hadn't been happy about that. No skating in the house.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Shock.
She knew it's familiar face. It's treacherous taste. She knew it like the back of her hand…one freckle on her right knuckle, just below her pinky. A faint white scar on first joint of her forefinger.
Carving, she'd been at camp and they'd been carving soap of all things. The pocketknife slipped and she'd had a mark ever since.
It was a safe mark. One she didn't resent, one that she could thank her maker for. The blood that had flowed from that wound at least, had been innocent unknowing blood. Childlike.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
How did things turn so quickly?
Dinner. Dinner with her father, with Sloane and a few of his associates. Then blood and death and murder and running. Lots of running.
Then the clock. Ticking closer and closer to discovery. Closer and closer to death.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Ticktockticktockticktock…
Dizziness temporarily blocked out her vision and she knew she should try and regain control of her hurried breathing. Hyperventilation was not an option she could afford right now.
Everything was moving so fast…so slow…in circles. The clock…one hand passing another. Her father, pacing in the other room on the phone.
Trying to keep his voice down, but unable to hide the sudden fiery bursts of anger.
Ticktockticktockticktock
She clutched at the arm of the sofa; it's floral print soft and rough, dry and damp from her sweat. Clinging to stay upright. To ground herself.
She looked down at her hand, pale against the dark greens and blues. Red streaks running down her arm, escaping from the white cloth of her fathers ripped shirt, tied haphazardly around her arm.
She was still in that little black dress, the one Francie…Oh God Francie…let her borrow. Will said…Not Will too…that…ticktockticktock…looked good on her.
TicktockTicktock…
"Sydney! Sydney focus!" Her father demanded as he covered up the receiver with his hand.
Her head snapped up.
Focus.
She could do that.
"They are sending someone over for extraction. They'll put you in protective custody while the details of your new life are sorted out."
Focus.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Gunshots.
Why were their gunshots? That wasn't supposed to happen.
Then there was more running…but not before she blasted the hell out of that mocking clock.
