Title: Lament for Sins Past
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimers: All characters are owned by JJ Abrams.
Based after The Counteragent
Control shattered
Derevko walked up to the glass marking the edge of her boundary and ran her hand across its smooth finish. So smooth she thought admiring its definition. It knew exactly where it began and where it ended. It understood its purpose. It did not question its purpose. It did not regret its purpose. It would always be consistent in its properties, in its purpose. It would not suddenly decide, on a whim, to not be glass anymore. Unfortunately, she thought ruefully, it can be shattered.
With no windows in her cell it was impossible to tell the time, but she new it was evening. It felt like evening. She felt tired and worn out. She leaned her head against the glass and felt its coolness against her forehead. The coolness momentarily shocked her, so she turned her face so she could touch her cheek to it as well. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the slight pain in her face. Too soon her cheek become used to the glass and so she had to turn her face to the other cheek. When the other half of her face could no longer feel the glass she turned slightly, so that the back of her head rested against the glass. She hardly felt herself slide to the floor except when her head hit against the metal bar that divided the glass. It ripped out some of her hair as she continued her slide down but she barely smiled. She knew it was going to be one of those nights, but she also knew that she needed it. Because after she cut her soul open she would be stronger for it.
Her thoughts turned back to her visitor earlier today. He really does look so much like his father. He is more naïve but maybe that makes him better. Maybe he won't be quite so harsh, maybe he won't be quite so willing to sacrifice his beliefs.maybe he won't be willing to turn into the people he despises to destroy them. He came back to see me today. He didn't have to; he could have just gone home. He didn't even try to lie. Maybe it was because he was scared of me but I don't think so. He won't become what I have. More likely he's just scared to love her. And he should be. She'll push him to his very boundaries, but if he doesn't break then she won't either.
Do I regret killing the old man? No, he knew the risks, and I have no doubt that he would have killed me without hesitation had he been in a position to, but I regret what it has done to them. Can they overcome the lies and death that surround them? Can he still love her even though I killed his father? She needs someone like him. She needs his foundations, she needs his strength, and she needs his honor to remind her that not everyone is like her parents. More than anything, Irina knew that she did not want her daughter to become like her. Because to become like her, she knew the unspeakable pain Sydney would have to go through.
If Fate is really governed by a deity of some kind, Irina thought cruelly, then she's probably pissed herself laughing by now.
But she also knew that would have killed her if she was really working for Arvin Sloane. She would have killed her daughter to prevent her from working for that man. And for that she could hate Jack. Jack had allowed it to happen. Jack must have understood the total evil encompassed within that man and yet he had not found a way to stop her. I would have, she thought. Irina found herself looking back through her life at the role that Jack had played. She understood the mission when she was selected to go. She felt no remorse in using Jack to get the intel she needed. She had been incapable of remorse. She had been trained at an early age to do what she was told and so she did. She knew the price of disappointment. But she was not totally blind to the greed and selfishness of her superiors. She knew that some of the intel she passed along did not go to help her country, it went to help her boss or her boss's boss. But she did what she was told. Until the day she met Arvin Sloane she had not thought that evil really existed. She had understood human weakness, she had learned to use it to her advantage, but Arvin had showed her that evil was another monster altogether.
And that's the real truth. I have regrets. I regret playing his game. I regret sinking down to his level to get revenge. I had regained control in the relationship. Except for that one night, I was always the one in control. I should have left it at that. She thought back to that fateful night. Her and Jack had been sharing a few drinks of wine; they had been enjoying themselves. He had turned on some classical music in the background when Arvin knocked on their door. Him and Jack had talked seriously for a few minutes before Jack asked to excuse himself for a few hours. He had invited Arvin to stay and Arvin had accepted. After Jack left, Irina had found herself in an awkward silence with him. She had never liked him much, he reminded her of a snake, with his beady eyes. She must have drunk more that she intended or perhaps.she did not discount the fact that he may have drugged the wine that she was drinking. Though she remembered only disconnected scenes from that night, she knew that he had pinned her against the table and taken her right there. She remembered him holding her hands above her head with such force that she could not remove them. She had been helpless. Afterwards when he had left, she had felt such rage, rage like she had not felt in years, not since her first few years at the Academy. She remembered locking herself in the bathroom and crying and screaming until she was hoarse. Then she had gone to bed.
The next day she had begged Jack for a child. Jack had been hesitant because of his work, but in the end he could deny her nothing. Through all her hate and rage she had thought herself incapable of love. She had meant to use the child to torture Arvin, let him believe the child was his. She vividly remembered the look of shock on his face when he found out she was pregnant. He had discretely asked her if the child could possibly be his and she had merely smiled. He never touched her again. She had regained control. That is until she had found out twenty years later that he had recruited her daughter.
With her head hanging heavy on her shoulders Irina stood back up and this time leaned her face against the cool metal bar supporting the glass. With tears streaming down her face she could not contain the groan of grief that escaped her throat. She had thought she could never love, but the truth was she had loved Sydney from the moment she laid eyes on her. Suddenly this little baby had managed to ensnare the heart she had heavily guarded. It was as if all of her rage and hate had been instantly transformed into a love so powerful she would have killed anyone for it. And then she had seen the look on Jack's face when he first held his daughter. She saw what she could only imagine had been on her face moments earlier. In that moment she knew that she could also love Jack. Regardless of her mission, regardless of the consequences, she could love this man if he loved their daughter as much as she did.
As time went on, she realized that if she were to protect her daughter, then she had to complete her mission. There were evil, horrible people in the world that would be happy to use Sydney against her. And so she did what she had to, to protect her. And she regretted none of it, except her revenge against Arvin. And now Sydney was in the very position that she had thought to prevent. Irina slid her cheek across the cool metal, not even feeling the cold, she was so wrapped up in her emotions. She was scared. She was scared that Sydney would be hurt, scared that she would feel something close to the pain that Irina had carried around with her for years. And secretly, in a part of her heart she denied, she knew that she was also scared that Sydney would always believe her to be the evil incarnate that she herself had and still did believe Sloane to be.
Irina felt the sobs escape and as she slid back down the metal bar she felt a burr in the metal tickle her cheek. Suddenly Irina jerked her head down and felt the metal burr rip painfully across her cheek. She sat on the floor, brought her knees up to her chest and buried her head in her hands. She was helpless again. Her guilt was for nothing, because she was helpless to aid her daughter. And so she cried.
Based after The Counteragent
Control shattered
Derevko walked up to the glass marking the edge of her boundary and ran her hand across its smooth finish. So smooth she thought admiring its definition. It knew exactly where it began and where it ended. It understood its purpose. It did not question its purpose. It did not regret its purpose. It would always be consistent in its properties, in its purpose. It would not suddenly decide, on a whim, to not be glass anymore. Unfortunately, she thought ruefully, it can be shattered.
With no windows in her cell it was impossible to tell the time, but she new it was evening. It felt like evening. She felt tired and worn out. She leaned her head against the glass and felt its coolness against her forehead. The coolness momentarily shocked her, so she turned her face so she could touch her cheek to it as well. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the slight pain in her face. Too soon her cheek become used to the glass and so she had to turn her face to the other cheek. When the other half of her face could no longer feel the glass she turned slightly, so that the back of her head rested against the glass. She hardly felt herself slide to the floor except when her head hit against the metal bar that divided the glass. It ripped out some of her hair as she continued her slide down but she barely smiled. She knew it was going to be one of those nights, but she also knew that she needed it. Because after she cut her soul open she would be stronger for it.
Her thoughts turned back to her visitor earlier today. He really does look so much like his father. He is more naïve but maybe that makes him better. Maybe he won't be quite so harsh, maybe he won't be quite so willing to sacrifice his beliefs.maybe he won't be willing to turn into the people he despises to destroy them. He came back to see me today. He didn't have to; he could have just gone home. He didn't even try to lie. Maybe it was because he was scared of me but I don't think so. He won't become what I have. More likely he's just scared to love her. And he should be. She'll push him to his very boundaries, but if he doesn't break then she won't either.
Do I regret killing the old man? No, he knew the risks, and I have no doubt that he would have killed me without hesitation had he been in a position to, but I regret what it has done to them. Can they overcome the lies and death that surround them? Can he still love her even though I killed his father? She needs someone like him. She needs his foundations, she needs his strength, and she needs his honor to remind her that not everyone is like her parents. More than anything, Irina knew that she did not want her daughter to become like her. Because to become like her, she knew the unspeakable pain Sydney would have to go through.
If Fate is really governed by a deity of some kind, Irina thought cruelly, then she's probably pissed herself laughing by now.
But she also knew that would have killed her if she was really working for Arvin Sloane. She would have killed her daughter to prevent her from working for that man. And for that she could hate Jack. Jack had allowed it to happen. Jack must have understood the total evil encompassed within that man and yet he had not found a way to stop her. I would have, she thought. Irina found herself looking back through her life at the role that Jack had played. She understood the mission when she was selected to go. She felt no remorse in using Jack to get the intel she needed. She had been incapable of remorse. She had been trained at an early age to do what she was told and so she did. She knew the price of disappointment. But she was not totally blind to the greed and selfishness of her superiors. She knew that some of the intel she passed along did not go to help her country, it went to help her boss or her boss's boss. But she did what she was told. Until the day she met Arvin Sloane she had not thought that evil really existed. She had understood human weakness, she had learned to use it to her advantage, but Arvin had showed her that evil was another monster altogether.
And that's the real truth. I have regrets. I regret playing his game. I regret sinking down to his level to get revenge. I had regained control in the relationship. Except for that one night, I was always the one in control. I should have left it at that. She thought back to that fateful night. Her and Jack had been sharing a few drinks of wine; they had been enjoying themselves. He had turned on some classical music in the background when Arvin knocked on their door. Him and Jack had talked seriously for a few minutes before Jack asked to excuse himself for a few hours. He had invited Arvin to stay and Arvin had accepted. After Jack left, Irina had found herself in an awkward silence with him. She had never liked him much, he reminded her of a snake, with his beady eyes. She must have drunk more that she intended or perhaps.she did not discount the fact that he may have drugged the wine that she was drinking. Though she remembered only disconnected scenes from that night, she knew that he had pinned her against the table and taken her right there. She remembered him holding her hands above her head with such force that she could not remove them. She had been helpless. Afterwards when he had left, she had felt such rage, rage like she had not felt in years, not since her first few years at the Academy. She remembered locking herself in the bathroom and crying and screaming until she was hoarse. Then she had gone to bed.
The next day she had begged Jack for a child. Jack had been hesitant because of his work, but in the end he could deny her nothing. Through all her hate and rage she had thought herself incapable of love. She had meant to use the child to torture Arvin, let him believe the child was his. She vividly remembered the look of shock on his face when he found out she was pregnant. He had discretely asked her if the child could possibly be his and she had merely smiled. He never touched her again. She had regained control. That is until she had found out twenty years later that he had recruited her daughter.
With her head hanging heavy on her shoulders Irina stood back up and this time leaned her face against the cool metal bar supporting the glass. With tears streaming down her face she could not contain the groan of grief that escaped her throat. She had thought she could never love, but the truth was she had loved Sydney from the moment she laid eyes on her. Suddenly this little baby had managed to ensnare the heart she had heavily guarded. It was as if all of her rage and hate had been instantly transformed into a love so powerful she would have killed anyone for it. And then she had seen the look on Jack's face when he first held his daughter. She saw what she could only imagine had been on her face moments earlier. In that moment she knew that she could also love Jack. Regardless of her mission, regardless of the consequences, she could love this man if he loved their daughter as much as she did.
As time went on, she realized that if she were to protect her daughter, then she had to complete her mission. There were evil, horrible people in the world that would be happy to use Sydney against her. And so she did what she had to, to protect her. And she regretted none of it, except her revenge against Arvin. And now Sydney was in the very position that she had thought to prevent. Irina slid her cheek across the cool metal, not even feeling the cold, she was so wrapped up in her emotions. She was scared. She was scared that Sydney would be hurt, scared that she would feel something close to the pain that Irina had carried around with her for years. And secretly, in a part of her heart she denied, she knew that she was also scared that Sydney would always believe her to be the evil incarnate that she herself had and still did believe Sloane to be.
Irina felt the sobs escape and as she slid back down the metal bar she felt a burr in the metal tickle her cheek. Suddenly Irina jerked her head down and felt the metal burr rip painfully across her cheek. She sat on the floor, brought her knees up to her chest and buried her head in her hands. She was helpless again. Her guilt was for nothing, because she was helpless to aid her daughter. And so she cried.