Note: Thanks to everyone who took the time to review this! I really
appreciate it. Sorry I haven't updated this since before Christmas but you
know how it is. Thanks and please review! (
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.J. Abrams and Alias.
***
It seemed that the weather matched the mood of those long and dark days that followed Sydney's death. I didn't go anywhere really. I spent a lot of time sitting on my couch staring out the window at the stormy rain clouds. Water streaked the windows as my tears soaked my face again and again. Donovan barely left my side, somehow sensing that I needed the company. His sorrowful eyes followed me as I paced and screamed at the world. Donovan heard about the woman I had loved. He heard everything, from the beginning. I told him all of my regrets and wishes that would be unfulfilled. It felt so good to finally say those words out loud. It made it real to me. For months I had scolded myself each time a thought of her crossed my mind but the time had come to confront these feelings and realize that protocol shouldn't have mattered.
I was furious to realize that I couldn't even attend her funeral as it might blow Jack's cover with SD-6. I wanted to go so badly. To talk with all the other people who were missing her; to her friends and tell them how much she loved them. She was so proud of them both. I hoped that they understood that. But I wasn't about to put another Bristow life at stake simply to satisfy myself. So I stayed away. I watched from a distance as the mourners left the tiny church with their black umbrellas over their heads. They followed the hearse slowly as they moved to the cemetery. I snuck into the building shaking the rain out of my hair. I walked to the front to examine the bouquets of flowers that lay there. Conservative arrangements were scattered about from 'clients' who she had never known. Even in death parts of her life had been a lie. I wished that I could have given her a life that was real and shielded her from the atrocities that she had to deal with on a daily basis. One large bouquet in the corner caught my eye. As I read the card my blood ran cold. The neatly printed card read the name of Arvin Sloane. My stomach turned as I lurched toward the back of the church. There were several pictures on a small table at the back. I knew it would hurt to look at them but I couldn't help myself. Sydney as a child on Christmas morning; Syd, Will and Francie at the grand opening of Francie's restaurant. As I shuffled through some loose photos I noticed one that took my breath away. Sydney stood alone on a beach nearing sunset, her hair blowing loose in the wind. A single tear escaped down the curvatures of my face. She looked so innocent and carefree. Not in pain or suffering. She looked the way I wanted to remember her. I tucked the photo into my jacket pocket as I exited the church and walked quickly to my car.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.J. Abrams and Alias.
***
It seemed that the weather matched the mood of those long and dark days that followed Sydney's death. I didn't go anywhere really. I spent a lot of time sitting on my couch staring out the window at the stormy rain clouds. Water streaked the windows as my tears soaked my face again and again. Donovan barely left my side, somehow sensing that I needed the company. His sorrowful eyes followed me as I paced and screamed at the world. Donovan heard about the woman I had loved. He heard everything, from the beginning. I told him all of my regrets and wishes that would be unfulfilled. It felt so good to finally say those words out loud. It made it real to me. For months I had scolded myself each time a thought of her crossed my mind but the time had come to confront these feelings and realize that protocol shouldn't have mattered.
I was furious to realize that I couldn't even attend her funeral as it might blow Jack's cover with SD-6. I wanted to go so badly. To talk with all the other people who were missing her; to her friends and tell them how much she loved them. She was so proud of them both. I hoped that they understood that. But I wasn't about to put another Bristow life at stake simply to satisfy myself. So I stayed away. I watched from a distance as the mourners left the tiny church with their black umbrellas over their heads. They followed the hearse slowly as they moved to the cemetery. I snuck into the building shaking the rain out of my hair. I walked to the front to examine the bouquets of flowers that lay there. Conservative arrangements were scattered about from 'clients' who she had never known. Even in death parts of her life had been a lie. I wished that I could have given her a life that was real and shielded her from the atrocities that she had to deal with on a daily basis. One large bouquet in the corner caught my eye. As I read the card my blood ran cold. The neatly printed card read the name of Arvin Sloane. My stomach turned as I lurched toward the back of the church. There were several pictures on a small table at the back. I knew it would hurt to look at them but I couldn't help myself. Sydney as a child on Christmas morning; Syd, Will and Francie at the grand opening of Francie's restaurant. As I shuffled through some loose photos I noticed one that took my breath away. Sydney stood alone on a beach nearing sunset, her hair blowing loose in the wind. A single tear escaped down the curvatures of my face. She looked so innocent and carefree. Not in pain or suffering. She looked the way I wanted to remember her. I tucked the photo into my jacket pocket as I exited the church and walked quickly to my car.