"I'll be there tomorrow."
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I have to tell my granddaughter about the woman that almost destroyed my life.
Irina Derevko. Laura Bristow. She had many aliases.
She also destroyed many families. Mine, Michael Vaughn's; countless people are suffering still.
I knew Sydney was going to tell Emily about our past. I also knew she would leave a few details out. Will must have said something. I never understood why the CIA recruited him.
She felt guilty calling me, but I understand that she can't talk about it. Vaughn is just as scarred. I'm the only person left for the job.
I'm not exactly thrilled.
I've become soft in the last 15 years. I moved to Canada shortly after Emily was born. I "retired" from the Alliance, saying the loss of SD-6 had shaken my emotions so badly I wasn't capable of becoming a member. I'm good at bullshitting.
I've had practice.
The only person I have trouble lying to is Emily. She can always see through my mask. I suppose it was the games we played when she was baby. There's no way I can bullshit my way out of this.
All these thoughts run through my head as I book my airplane tickets. I've been on thousands of airplanes to thousands of destinations. Los Angeles always meant going home. Now I'm going to tell my granddaughter about her evil ancestor.
If this had happened 20 years ago, I would have no problem. I could tell anything without showing any emotion. But that was then. I've changed. All psychiatrists say its good to show emotion and break down. I'd never understood why. The last 20 years of my life had been committed to hiding feeling. Then I met my granddaughter. She cracked my exterior shell.
I just wonder how I can tell her without shattering the wall I've built around Laura Bristow.
My thoughts have been carefully placed, planning out how to begin. I think I'll start with the car crash. Explain that. And then I'll move onto the more personal details. The hardest details.
The plane trip is surprisingly short. The attendant kept asking if I needed a blanket. I must be getting old. I have no luggage; I'm only staying until tonight. I didn't even book a hotel room. I'm here only for Emily.
Sydney and I have grown closer since Emily was born. That little girl has done so much for us. I can even accept the fact that Sydney and Vaughn are meant to be together. Emily finally showed me that. She has given me many things. I've tried to give back. This is the least I can do for her.
But I still dread it.
Los Angeles is still the same. Concreted trees sway in the light breeze. Cars honk. Diesel fuel perfumes the air. I wish I could say it's good to be home.
But it isn't.
I'm meeting Sydney and Emily at the warehouse. I had hoped that I would never set foot in a CIA meeting place again. I understand why. The warehouse is filled with emotions. Sydney broke down in the warehouse, and then exploded with anger when she realized what I'd done. She finally forgave me after I saved Agent Vaughn's life. That year was one of the worst in my life. I had to regain her trust over and over. I think I have it for good now.
I've always had Emily's trust. She has never doubted me. I hope that our confessions won't change that. I don't think I could bear to lose Emily too.
My footsteps echo in the concrete building. Emily and Sydney are already here. I eaves drop before I enter.
"Why are we at a warehouse?"
"I used to meet with my CIA handler here. He would give me my counter missions. I always liked this meeting place the best because I could look Agent Vaughn in the eyes. I had a few breakdowns here too."
Now sounds a good time as any. I push open the gate that separates me from my child and granddaughter. Emily whips around and gasps.
"Poppa?"
Here goes nothing.
AN: I know its short. Everyone's been demanding Poppa. Here's Poppa. Explanations will probably be in Sydney POV, because the emotion will be too great to explain it from any other person. Oh, by the way, thanks for all the reviews on my fluff.
*Duck
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I have to tell my granddaughter about the woman that almost destroyed my life.
Irina Derevko. Laura Bristow. She had many aliases.
She also destroyed many families. Mine, Michael Vaughn's; countless people are suffering still.
I knew Sydney was going to tell Emily about our past. I also knew she would leave a few details out. Will must have said something. I never understood why the CIA recruited him.
She felt guilty calling me, but I understand that she can't talk about it. Vaughn is just as scarred. I'm the only person left for the job.
I'm not exactly thrilled.
I've become soft in the last 15 years. I moved to Canada shortly after Emily was born. I "retired" from the Alliance, saying the loss of SD-6 had shaken my emotions so badly I wasn't capable of becoming a member. I'm good at bullshitting.
I've had practice.
The only person I have trouble lying to is Emily. She can always see through my mask. I suppose it was the games we played when she was baby. There's no way I can bullshit my way out of this.
All these thoughts run through my head as I book my airplane tickets. I've been on thousands of airplanes to thousands of destinations. Los Angeles always meant going home. Now I'm going to tell my granddaughter about her evil ancestor.
If this had happened 20 years ago, I would have no problem. I could tell anything without showing any emotion. But that was then. I've changed. All psychiatrists say its good to show emotion and break down. I'd never understood why. The last 20 years of my life had been committed to hiding feeling. Then I met my granddaughter. She cracked my exterior shell.
I just wonder how I can tell her without shattering the wall I've built around Laura Bristow.
My thoughts have been carefully placed, planning out how to begin. I think I'll start with the car crash. Explain that. And then I'll move onto the more personal details. The hardest details.
The plane trip is surprisingly short. The attendant kept asking if I needed a blanket. I must be getting old. I have no luggage; I'm only staying until tonight. I didn't even book a hotel room. I'm here only for Emily.
Sydney and I have grown closer since Emily was born. That little girl has done so much for us. I can even accept the fact that Sydney and Vaughn are meant to be together. Emily finally showed me that. She has given me many things. I've tried to give back. This is the least I can do for her.
But I still dread it.
Los Angeles is still the same. Concreted trees sway in the light breeze. Cars honk. Diesel fuel perfumes the air. I wish I could say it's good to be home.
But it isn't.
I'm meeting Sydney and Emily at the warehouse. I had hoped that I would never set foot in a CIA meeting place again. I understand why. The warehouse is filled with emotions. Sydney broke down in the warehouse, and then exploded with anger when she realized what I'd done. She finally forgave me after I saved Agent Vaughn's life. That year was one of the worst in my life. I had to regain her trust over and over. I think I have it for good now.
I've always had Emily's trust. She has never doubted me. I hope that our confessions won't change that. I don't think I could bear to lose Emily too.
My footsteps echo in the concrete building. Emily and Sydney are already here. I eaves drop before I enter.
"Why are we at a warehouse?"
"I used to meet with my CIA handler here. He would give me my counter missions. I always liked this meeting place the best because I could look Agent Vaughn in the eyes. I had a few breakdowns here too."
Now sounds a good time as any. I push open the gate that separates me from my child and granddaughter. Emily whips around and gasps.
"Poppa?"
Here goes nothing.
AN: I know its short. Everyone's been demanding Poppa. Here's Poppa. Explanations will probably be in Sydney POV, because the emotion will be too great to explain it from any other person. Oh, by the way, thanks for all the reviews on my fluff.
*Duck