Title: The Moment
Author: Edele Lane
E-mail: Edyn04@aol.com
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Everything "Alias"-related does not belong to me. It belongs to J.J. Abrams and probably 900 other people associated with him.
Archive: Nowhere yet, but if you want it, take it and then e-mail me so I'll know.
Feedback: Please;x
Summary: Sydney. Irina. The cage that separates them.
Dedication: This is for Ash who reads each part before it is posted here and is undoubtedly my best (and favorite) critic.
The Moment
Sydney walked through the building, heading straight to her mother's cell. Sloane hadn't given her a mission, so she wasn't going to see her mother because of that.
Instead, it was to just talk. She had cleared a major hurdle when she called her mother for the first time. She had finally gotten to the point where she felt she was able to trust her.
She knew that her father—no matter how many times he said he respected her decisions—was still uneasy and possibly angry that she had chosen to try and repair the relationship she had once had with her mother.
She sighed and thought about what her mother had said on the roof the other day. She thought it was terribly ironic how her mother's decisions for joining the KGB when she was eighteen perfectly mirrored her own reasons for joining SD-6 at nineteen.
Sydney suddenly thought of the moments after that. The determined but timid Sydney?' The instant she turned around upon hearing her name. The tears in her own as well as her mother's eyes. The steps they took to suddenly find themselves in each other's arms. The embrace that seemed like it should have happened a long time ago. The tears that then flowed freely.
The fucking U.S. Marshals that had to interfere.
She wanted to knock out every last one of them. It was ridiculous. She couldn't even hug her own mother without someone stepping in.
She hated her life.
She realized she had apparently looked severely pissed off to the guard standing by the three gates. She quickly produced identification to him and smiled. The guard nodded and allowed her to enter.
She let out a sigh as the first gate was opened. She frowned a little and turned to the guard. For a moment, she considered asking if he could open the door to the cell so she could talk to her mother without the glass separating them. Unfortunately, her mother had already exhausted both fifteen-minute roof sessions. But it probably wouldn't have mattered, Sydney decided, because of the forty-two guards up there just waiting for them to barely touch.
The second gate raised when she neared it. Then the third. She walked over to the cell and stood in front of it. She glimpsed her mother lying on the cot, curled up. She felt a pang of admiration in her chest and she smiled. She tapped lightly on the glass and her mother stirred. She tapped again, a little harder this time.
Irina flipped over so she could see who had disturbed her. She smiled upon seeing her daughter. She stifled a yawn and got up from the cot to walk over to the glass.
Sydney gave a nervous chuckle and looked down at her feet for a moment. I'm sorry I woke you.
Irina shook her head, still smiling. Don't ever be sorry for that, she said in a calm, perhaps even reassuring voice. What brings you here? The words came out more harsh than she had intended.
Sydney felt her breath catch in her throat for a moment as she wondered why her mother had asked the question in such a rude tone. She swallowed and absently placed a hand on the glass and leaned into it slightly. Well, I uh—
She stopped suddenly when she realized her mother had put her own hand on the glass, pairing it with hers. Her lip trembled and she felt a tear form in the corner of her eye. She wiped it away before it had the chance to fall and smiled weakly.
They stood like that for a few minutes: slight smiles and hands on the glass. Sydney moved first. She almost reluctantly moved her hand away from the glass and grabbed a chair resting nearby. She sat down and looked at her mother for a moment, as if inviting her to do the same.
Irina looked over her shoulder, scanning the room for a chair. She turned back to her daughter and covered her mouth to smother a laugh.
There was no chair in the cell.
Sydney found herself blushing. I thought there was a chair. There was one not that long ago, wasn't there?
They took it away, Irina said quietly.
Sydney's eyes narrowed in anger. They took the chair? Her mother nodded. Why would they take a fucking chair? she hissed, a lump rising in her throat from being so furious.
Irina raised her eyebrows and her daughter looked down, embarrassed.
I'm sorry for— she started, I—I didn't mean to—
Irina nodded, understanding her daughter's frustration and subsequent outburst. She stared for a minute more before sitting pretzel-style on the floor.
After a moment, Sydney got up from the chair and sat on the floor as well. She peered through the grating. It was better than the glass but they were still separated.
Sydney put her index finger through a space in the grating and her mother latched onto it with her hand almost immediately. Sydney almost expected the lone guard to come running and pull her away.
They sat, neither one speaking, for a while. They held one another's gaze the entire time. An outsider would have thought they were using their eyes to communicate silently. In a way, they were. It seemed that they didn't need to say anything, that everything they wished to say could be found in their eyes when they looked at each other.
Sydney had a million questions she wanted to ask her mother. But in sitting there with her, it was almost as if she knew she could find the answers if she looked far enough into her eyes. There was something she needed to tell her more than she needed to ask her anything, but she wasn't sure if she was ready to take that step yet.
Likewise, Irina had a great deal of things she wanted to ask her daughter. Most importantly though, there was one thing she wanted to say to her, but she hadn't yet found the courage to do so. She sighed and smiled and her daughter smiled back. Nervously, Irina ran a finger over her lips. She wanted—no, needed—to tell her daughter what she had been wanting to say to her for not only the last few months, but for the last twenty-one years. She bit her lip and spoke quietly.
There's been something I've been wanting—needing—to tell you for a while now. I've been waiting for the right moment. She paused, searching her daughter's eyes to see if she was following what she was saying and if she possibly knew what she planned to say. I think we were able to break down a major barrier on the roof the other day. Unfortunately, our moment had ended before it had begun, and I wasn't able to say all I needed to say.
Sydney nodded and smiled. Tears had begun to fill her eyes as well as her mother's. She knew exactly what her mother wished to say because it was precisely the same thing that she wanted to say.
Irina took a deep breath and swallowed hard. She forced herself not to blink because she knew she would start crying right then and there, and wouldn't be able to finish saying what she knew she had to say. She spoke again as she tightened her grip slightly on her daughter's finger.
Sydney, I wanted to tell you, that— Her lip trembled and she swallowed again. I wanted to tell you that— She still couldn't get the words out. She cast her eyes downward and blinked. A few tears had cascaded down her cheek when she looked back up into her daughter's eyes. She took a deep breath and tried to smile. I love you, she whispered.
Sydney broke down then. She thread her other fingers through the grating and her mother laced her fingers through them. She used her other hand to wipe at her eyes. She was sobbing and couldn't bring herself to look at her mother, whom she knew was also crying.
They looked up and gazed far into the other's eyes at the same time. Sydney wiped her eyes again and choked back a sob.
Her voice broke, as she succumbed to more sobs. She took several short breaths, trying to make the sobs subside, but only succeeding in making them worse. She finally decided to let them run their course. It was easier that way. Trying to stop the inevitable was almost always pointless.
Sydney was finally able to overcome the sobs. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, which were now red from all the tears she had cried. She looked at her mother, who seemed to be a bit more composed than she was, but was still not completely fine. Her lip trembled. She took a deep breath. she stammered, I love you too—Mom, she choked out.
It was Irina's turn to break down. She squeezed her daughter's fingers, wishing she could be embracing her. The first time they had exchanged I love you's' in over twenty years should have involved an embrace. She was still crying as she leaned forward to press her daughter's fingers to her cheek.
Almost instinctively, Sydney leaned down as well as her mother slid her fingers through the grating to touch her cheek.
Even a few minutes later, they were both still crying. Sydney looked into her mother's eyes and smiled. Another hurdle had been cleared. She wasn't sure how many more there would be before they could slip back into the relationship they had.
This isn't right, Sydney said after a moment.
Irina narrowed her eyes and cocked her head slightly. What do you mean?
Sydney gave her mother a don't worry, I know what I'm doing' smile and stood up. She looked to her left and her gaze fell on the lone guard. she began, I want you to do me a favor and open this—cage—for me.
I—I can't, the guard stammered.
Irina stood up and couldn't help but smile in complete adoration for her daughter.
Just do it. Please. It won't be more than five minutes, Sydney said, her voice quavering a little.
The guard nodded reluctantly and made his way past the gates to the cell. He unlocked it and stood back. He gave Irina a warning glance and pointed to the gun in his holster.
Thank you, Sydney whispered, a few tears running down her cheek. The guard nodded.
Sydney stepped inside the cell. She and her mother looked at each other for a moment, as if to prepare themselves. The urgent embrace came next. It seemed to be an extension of the hug on the roof. After a few seconds, Sydney and her mother had both grown weary that a swarm of people who had probably seen their conversation and the events afterward would come in and break their union.
But no one did.
Sydney found that the embrace didn't involve one person comforting the other. She realized that it was more like they were comforting each other equally. She had sobbed into her mother's shoulder and her mother had sobbed into hers.
Several minutes had passed before Irina finally spoke. Her tone was hushed. I love you so much, Sydney, she said between sobs.
I love you too, Mom, Sydney whispered back.
I wish I had never left you, Irina said quietly, hugging her daughter tighter, almost afraid to let go.
Sydney swallowed, looking for the right words. She hugged her mother tighter and choked back a sob. I'm just glad you came back.