TITLE: Smack
AUTHOR: Sun Tzu(me)
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing related to ALIAS. Just expressing my talent through fanfiction.
SUMMARY: AU-Sydney ran away from her life with her father. What happens when years later, her world comes crashing down and old memories are revoked? WIP
A/N: Many of the concepts of this story are taken from the book 'Smack' by Melvin Burgess. Great book. Really speaks the truth. I am comparing Sydney to both Lily and Gemma. If you read it or have read it you would really enjoy it! SD-6 doesn't exist and therefore Jack is not a double agent! Sydney is only 24 years old.
FEEDBACK: Sure, why not? Keeps the updates coming!
A/N: Thanks so much for all the great feedback! Yah Right. I got like one review!!! Thank you soooo much ReeCee!!! This chapter is dedicated to you since you are the only person who seems to care about this story!! LOL! C'mon ppl! Show me the love!!! Somebody's got to be reading this! Are people today just too selfish and busy to review my little old story? WHAT CAN I DO TO GET YOU PEOPLE TO REVIEW???!!!
Also, as I might have or have not mentioned earlier, Vaughn will becoming a main character very soon!! Hint hint hint!!
*
Chapter Two: A Family Discussion
*
"You always think that you can keep it safely tucked away, that no one needs to know, that you don't need comfort. You think you're over it. You think it's in the past. You always think, but you never know." -BPG
*
If someone had told me that at this moment, I would be working for the CIA and seeing my parents for the first time in forever, I would have told them that they were fucking insane.
Everything just seems so strange and uncomfortable. I don't really know how to start off talking to my parents about the last 10 years of my life. It all just seems too ironic.
I finished with the debrief interview and then filled out and signed documents upon documents pertaining to my life with K-Directorate. It was exhausting. Sark finished his up as well, but we both agreed to leave every part involving the drugs, prostitution, and pregnancy out. They didn't deserve or need to know about that just yet. Maybe they never would.
The next few days following the debriefs were spent getting a new mission ready for us. Sark, my mother, my father, and I would be going to Romania to steal some disks with 'crucial information' on them from an accomplished arms dealer named Jared Marco. A quick swipe and run-nothing unusual for me.
Of course, I would be playing the seductress role. Don't I always? It is almost sickening how it seems to be the only fool-proof way to get Intel. To seduce some old, ugly pervert for information. It is almost unbelievable.
Sark never disapproves of my role. He somehow found a way to understand that what I do in the field can never be taken at face value, I am only playing a character, a simple role that will soon be forgotten.
I have pretty much avoided my father since that first day, I'm just not ready to share anything too personal with him yet. The same goes for my mother. I can easily avoid her because it is really my choice to go visit her cell or hang out upstairs.
I've never shared anything personal with anyone except Sark and Khasinau. Alexander Khasinau was like a father to me. He helped me through my pregnancy, got me off smack, comforted me when I lost Emily, my baby at birth, and trained me to be the best agent I could. Sark stayed by my side through thick and thin, never letting anything get him down, for my sake. I love him more than can be imagined.
It is only 6 hours until the mission. We are boarding a private CIA jet to the Romanian capital and then taking a private car to our base about 80 miles from the Bucharest. That is where we will prepare for the evening party at Marco's and extraction precautions as well as the final mission specs.
Sark and I are packing lightly, for we won't be wearing our own clothes for long. I'm wearing one of my every day outfits, even if the CIA thinks they are too revealing for a proper agent to be wearing. Sark says they're full of crap, and he's damn right.
So, I've settled for a simple tank top and jean shorts, it is summer in Romania afterall, I'll fit right in. Screw those damn CIA bastards and their 'protocol'. I play only by my own rules.
My mother has been implanted with some stupid tracker thing, not that I give a damn. Agents like her wouldn't have a problem losing the tracker in no time.
We all board the plane in silence. I can already feel my father's glare on me as I sit in a far corner of the plane's cargo hold with Sark. But who is he to tell me I'm not wearing proper clothes? I stopped listening to his advice the day I ran away. He just met me all over again and he has no right to tell me what I've done wrong.
My mother seems pretty pissed with my outfit as well, or maybe she's pissed that Sark and I are always all over each other. She's probably afraid we'll fuck up the mission. She doesn't know me at all. I'm never sloppy when on the job. Neither is Sark.
My mother and father take the empty corners on each side of Sark and me. I sense a little tension between them. And to think they were worried about Sark and I having issues,.....
Sark, I dunno, he seems rather possessive of me today. He gets like that when he gets tense. Not that I mind. We kiss passionately until I get tired and pull away, settling with letting him hold me tight to his chest.
My mother is starting to look a bit guilty. What Sark said must have really evoked something in that head of hers. She must finally realize she doesn't know everything about daughter dearest....
My dad is a bit reclusive as well, he hasn't said a word and it's been nearly an hour into our 7 hour flight. Neither has my mom though. Good.
I suddenly feel a brilliant idea coming on. The cigarettes. Sark has a pack in his front pocket. I only smoke about one a day, same as him, but suddenly I'm feeling naughty. The perfect way to piss off the parents. Smoke in their faces.
I tell Sark this and he smiles that secretive smile of his, quickly pulling the pack from his pocket. He lights one, sucks on it for a second, and then gives it to me. He doesn't bother lighting a second one because he knows I like to share. I can't handle too much. It isn't too good for my health either. And I don't want to go chaining again......
When my parents start eyeing us, Sark holds out the pack.
"Smoke?" He asks, cocking his eyebrow slightly.
They both turn their heads away at nearly the same moment. I almost laugh.
He replaces the pack in his pocket with a simple shrug of his shoulders.
We stop at the one cig and nod off to sleep. A contented sleep. Something I don't get too often. No, there's just too many memories.....
I wake up to the sound-or rather the feeling of the plane touching down. I always hated the way planes landed. Thud. Just like that. One completely, utterly jarring thud.
As soon as we step off the plane, Sark and I are in full mission mode. We're playing a married couple. Not too far from our real relationship. Sark and I just never bothered to tie the knot. It just seemed meaningless at the time. It still does.
My parents are playing, well.....my parents. Sark's in-laws. It was ironic. And just a bit silly...
We arrive at our makeshift base one day before the party. In exactly 24 hours we'll be on the mission. Meaning we have more than enough time to prepare. I almost wish we didn't have much time, I could better avoid my parents if we had to go right away. I'll just deal with whatever comes my way.
That night, there is still no speaking. Sark offers me some of the knock-out pills he takes on the nights before missions, to help him fully rest up, but I decline. I feel a need to be alert. It might be a bad idea though, considering it increases the risk of one of my nightmares. Nightmares about Emmy. The heroin. The junk. It's always a horrible nightmare, it is.
Sark is out like a light in under five minutes, leaving me with my parents. There are four nice beds in the room. Sark is out on ours, but I never sleep near him when he takes the knock-outs. If he dreams while under their influence, he can get quite violent. So, I move to the only empty bed. Right between my parents' beds.
"Aren't you, I thought...." My mother looks at me curiously.
"What?" I am clearly clueless.
"You don't...." She points to Sark hesitantly.
"No," I realize what she's trying to say, "Not when he takes those things. He hits pretty hard when he dreams under them."
She looks confused for a moment, but then nods quietly.
I can see my father watching our exchange out of the corner of his eye. Doesn't matter.
I slip into bed and nod off quickly....
In the middle of the night, I wake suddenly, sweating. I had one of those damn nightmares.
I suddenly realize someone else must be awake. The lamps on either side of me are on and I can gradually make out two faces at the foot of my bed. My parents. Great.
"Who's Emmy?" My mother asks quietly.
"What!?" I say it too fast, they know something's up now. Stupid me.
"You kept saying 'Emmy'... over and over. You were almost,..well, screaming." My father looks stressed.
I look over to Sark to see if I had woken him, but he's still asleep because of the pills.
I decide, it's now or never.
"Emmy....Emmy was..." I feel a few tears slip without my knowledge, and almost immediately my mother is at my side. My father pulls up a desk chair beside the bed as my mother plants herself right on my blanket.
I hug myself tightly. Trying to make the memories go away. I can hear my mother urging me on...
"You can tell us Sydney. Anything." She says, her lips quivering.
My father looks more concerned than ever. "We're here for you. Maybe we weren't in the past...but we are now. Please. Let us help you."
Several minutes later, I finally find my voice.
"Emmy was my...daughter." I look up at each of them cautiously, curious of their reaction.
I find disbelief and wonder in both pairs of eyes.
"She was my baby girl. She was mine. She was mine." I start chanting it. Trying to make it go away. And trying to make it true at the same time.
"You have a daughter?" My father asks carefully.
"Past tense, Dad. I HAD a daughter. She died." I tell this quietly.
"When?" It's all my mother can say. She looks absolutely stunned.
"When I was 14, I got pregnant." I begin the story.
But before I can even say another word, my father breaks in, "Was Sark the father....was he?" His face is starting to heat up…
"Yes. No. I'm not sure." I let a sob escape. "I made us money by...I was a.... a prostitute." I finally spit out.
Their eyes are bulging now, just absolutely bulging.
"I ...We were on heroin. And other things." I continue. "When I found out I was...passing it on to a child, well, I just had to find a way to stop. I wouldn't hurt it. I just couldn't get rid of it either."
"Then, Khasinau recruited us." I smiled faintly. "He got me and Sark off it all. But it was too late. The baby died in the birth canal. It was just too late. It was too poisoned. Too much poison. Too much smack." I let the tear fall quickly.
My father was just about in tears. And my mother, well, she was past just the tears. In a second, her arms were around me, hugging me tightly to her. Desperate. Comforting. I forgave them both for everything. Right then. I might not have said it out loud, but it was just so relieving to get it off my chest that I could've forgiven just about anything and everything.
I don't remember much after that. Just more crying and the feeling of my mother and father tucking me in for the first time since I could remember. It was a more wonderful feeling than I would've thought.
AUTHOR: Sun Tzu(me)
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing related to ALIAS. Just expressing my talent through fanfiction.
SUMMARY: AU-Sydney ran away from her life with her father. What happens when years later, her world comes crashing down and old memories are revoked? WIP
A/N: Many of the concepts of this story are taken from the book 'Smack' by Melvin Burgess. Great book. Really speaks the truth. I am comparing Sydney to both Lily and Gemma. If you read it or have read it you would really enjoy it! SD-6 doesn't exist and therefore Jack is not a double agent! Sydney is only 24 years old.
FEEDBACK: Sure, why not? Keeps the updates coming!
A/N: Thanks so much for all the great feedback! Yah Right. I got like one review!!! Thank you soooo much ReeCee!!! This chapter is dedicated to you since you are the only person who seems to care about this story!! LOL! C'mon ppl! Show me the love!!! Somebody's got to be reading this! Are people today just too selfish and busy to review my little old story? WHAT CAN I DO TO GET YOU PEOPLE TO REVIEW???!!!
Also, as I might have or have not mentioned earlier, Vaughn will becoming a main character very soon!! Hint hint hint!!
*
Chapter Two: A Family Discussion
*
"You always think that you can keep it safely tucked away, that no one needs to know, that you don't need comfort. You think you're over it. You think it's in the past. You always think, but you never know." -BPG
*
If someone had told me that at this moment, I would be working for the CIA and seeing my parents for the first time in forever, I would have told them that they were fucking insane.
Everything just seems so strange and uncomfortable. I don't really know how to start off talking to my parents about the last 10 years of my life. It all just seems too ironic.
I finished with the debrief interview and then filled out and signed documents upon documents pertaining to my life with K-Directorate. It was exhausting. Sark finished his up as well, but we both agreed to leave every part involving the drugs, prostitution, and pregnancy out. They didn't deserve or need to know about that just yet. Maybe they never would.
The next few days following the debriefs were spent getting a new mission ready for us. Sark, my mother, my father, and I would be going to Romania to steal some disks with 'crucial information' on them from an accomplished arms dealer named Jared Marco. A quick swipe and run-nothing unusual for me.
Of course, I would be playing the seductress role. Don't I always? It is almost sickening how it seems to be the only fool-proof way to get Intel. To seduce some old, ugly pervert for information. It is almost unbelievable.
Sark never disapproves of my role. He somehow found a way to understand that what I do in the field can never be taken at face value, I am only playing a character, a simple role that will soon be forgotten.
I have pretty much avoided my father since that first day, I'm just not ready to share anything too personal with him yet. The same goes for my mother. I can easily avoid her because it is really my choice to go visit her cell or hang out upstairs.
I've never shared anything personal with anyone except Sark and Khasinau. Alexander Khasinau was like a father to me. He helped me through my pregnancy, got me off smack, comforted me when I lost Emily, my baby at birth, and trained me to be the best agent I could. Sark stayed by my side through thick and thin, never letting anything get him down, for my sake. I love him more than can be imagined.
It is only 6 hours until the mission. We are boarding a private CIA jet to the Romanian capital and then taking a private car to our base about 80 miles from the Bucharest. That is where we will prepare for the evening party at Marco's and extraction precautions as well as the final mission specs.
Sark and I are packing lightly, for we won't be wearing our own clothes for long. I'm wearing one of my every day outfits, even if the CIA thinks they are too revealing for a proper agent to be wearing. Sark says they're full of crap, and he's damn right.
So, I've settled for a simple tank top and jean shorts, it is summer in Romania afterall, I'll fit right in. Screw those damn CIA bastards and their 'protocol'. I play only by my own rules.
My mother has been implanted with some stupid tracker thing, not that I give a damn. Agents like her wouldn't have a problem losing the tracker in no time.
We all board the plane in silence. I can already feel my father's glare on me as I sit in a far corner of the plane's cargo hold with Sark. But who is he to tell me I'm not wearing proper clothes? I stopped listening to his advice the day I ran away. He just met me all over again and he has no right to tell me what I've done wrong.
My mother seems pretty pissed with my outfit as well, or maybe she's pissed that Sark and I are always all over each other. She's probably afraid we'll fuck up the mission. She doesn't know me at all. I'm never sloppy when on the job. Neither is Sark.
My mother and father take the empty corners on each side of Sark and me. I sense a little tension between them. And to think they were worried about Sark and I having issues,.....
Sark, I dunno, he seems rather possessive of me today. He gets like that when he gets tense. Not that I mind. We kiss passionately until I get tired and pull away, settling with letting him hold me tight to his chest.
My mother is starting to look a bit guilty. What Sark said must have really evoked something in that head of hers. She must finally realize she doesn't know everything about daughter dearest....
My dad is a bit reclusive as well, he hasn't said a word and it's been nearly an hour into our 7 hour flight. Neither has my mom though. Good.
I suddenly feel a brilliant idea coming on. The cigarettes. Sark has a pack in his front pocket. I only smoke about one a day, same as him, but suddenly I'm feeling naughty. The perfect way to piss off the parents. Smoke in their faces.
I tell Sark this and he smiles that secretive smile of his, quickly pulling the pack from his pocket. He lights one, sucks on it for a second, and then gives it to me. He doesn't bother lighting a second one because he knows I like to share. I can't handle too much. It isn't too good for my health either. And I don't want to go chaining again......
When my parents start eyeing us, Sark holds out the pack.
"Smoke?" He asks, cocking his eyebrow slightly.
They both turn their heads away at nearly the same moment. I almost laugh.
He replaces the pack in his pocket with a simple shrug of his shoulders.
We stop at the one cig and nod off to sleep. A contented sleep. Something I don't get too often. No, there's just too many memories.....
I wake up to the sound-or rather the feeling of the plane touching down. I always hated the way planes landed. Thud. Just like that. One completely, utterly jarring thud.
As soon as we step off the plane, Sark and I are in full mission mode. We're playing a married couple. Not too far from our real relationship. Sark and I just never bothered to tie the knot. It just seemed meaningless at the time. It still does.
My parents are playing, well.....my parents. Sark's in-laws. It was ironic. And just a bit silly...
We arrive at our makeshift base one day before the party. In exactly 24 hours we'll be on the mission. Meaning we have more than enough time to prepare. I almost wish we didn't have much time, I could better avoid my parents if we had to go right away. I'll just deal with whatever comes my way.
That night, there is still no speaking. Sark offers me some of the knock-out pills he takes on the nights before missions, to help him fully rest up, but I decline. I feel a need to be alert. It might be a bad idea though, considering it increases the risk of one of my nightmares. Nightmares about Emmy. The heroin. The junk. It's always a horrible nightmare, it is.
Sark is out like a light in under five minutes, leaving me with my parents. There are four nice beds in the room. Sark is out on ours, but I never sleep near him when he takes the knock-outs. If he dreams while under their influence, he can get quite violent. So, I move to the only empty bed. Right between my parents' beds.
"Aren't you, I thought...." My mother looks at me curiously.
"What?" I am clearly clueless.
"You don't...." She points to Sark hesitantly.
"No," I realize what she's trying to say, "Not when he takes those things. He hits pretty hard when he dreams under them."
She looks confused for a moment, but then nods quietly.
I can see my father watching our exchange out of the corner of his eye. Doesn't matter.
I slip into bed and nod off quickly....
In the middle of the night, I wake suddenly, sweating. I had one of those damn nightmares.
I suddenly realize someone else must be awake. The lamps on either side of me are on and I can gradually make out two faces at the foot of my bed. My parents. Great.
"Who's Emmy?" My mother asks quietly.
"What!?" I say it too fast, they know something's up now. Stupid me.
"You kept saying 'Emmy'... over and over. You were almost,..well, screaming." My father looks stressed.
I look over to Sark to see if I had woken him, but he's still asleep because of the pills.
I decide, it's now or never.
"Emmy....Emmy was..." I feel a few tears slip without my knowledge, and almost immediately my mother is at my side. My father pulls up a desk chair beside the bed as my mother plants herself right on my blanket.
I hug myself tightly. Trying to make the memories go away. I can hear my mother urging me on...
"You can tell us Sydney. Anything." She says, her lips quivering.
My father looks more concerned than ever. "We're here for you. Maybe we weren't in the past...but we are now. Please. Let us help you."
Several minutes later, I finally find my voice.
"Emmy was my...daughter." I look up at each of them cautiously, curious of their reaction.
I find disbelief and wonder in both pairs of eyes.
"She was my baby girl. She was mine. She was mine." I start chanting it. Trying to make it go away. And trying to make it true at the same time.
"You have a daughter?" My father asks carefully.
"Past tense, Dad. I HAD a daughter. She died." I tell this quietly.
"When?" It's all my mother can say. She looks absolutely stunned.
"When I was 14, I got pregnant." I begin the story.
But before I can even say another word, my father breaks in, "Was Sark the father....was he?" His face is starting to heat up…
"Yes. No. I'm not sure." I let a sob escape. "I made us money by...I was a.... a prostitute." I finally spit out.
Their eyes are bulging now, just absolutely bulging.
"I ...We were on heroin. And other things." I continue. "When I found out I was...passing it on to a child, well, I just had to find a way to stop. I wouldn't hurt it. I just couldn't get rid of it either."
"Then, Khasinau recruited us." I smiled faintly. "He got me and Sark off it all. But it was too late. The baby died in the birth canal. It was just too late. It was too poisoned. Too much poison. Too much smack." I let the tear fall quickly.
My father was just about in tears. And my mother, well, she was past just the tears. In a second, her arms were around me, hugging me tightly to her. Desperate. Comforting. I forgave them both for everything. Right then. I might not have said it out loud, but it was just so relieving to get it off my chest that I could've forgiven just about anything and everything.
I don't remember much after that. Just more crying and the feeling of my mother and father tucking me in for the first time since I could remember. It was a more wonderful feeling than I would've thought.