Author's notes: Wilkommen to my third official Alias fic! I actually didn't
plan to write another one for awhile, but one night when I couldn't sleep,
this idea absolutely would not leave my mind. So, I'll write a bit, and
we'll see how it goes. From this point on, I'm shooting without a script; I
don't know how long this one will be, and I don't know what this one will
consist of. We'll just see how it goes. With that said if you do like this
and want me to continue, please let me know!
Chapter 1: I was there for you
I didn't know that it was so cold
And you needed someone
to show you the way
So I took your hand and we figured out
That when the tide comes
I'd take you away
If you want to
I can save you
I can take you away from here
So lonely inside
So busy out there
And all you wanted
was somebody who cares ~Michelle Branch
The lightning stretches its limbs and tries its best to illuminate every corner of the sky; it fascinates me how it tries so briefly and so often to accomplish this feat. It reminds me of her before that day. She had tried to touch everyone's life for the better, but in most cases, it inevitably resulted in being for the worst. To know her, is to know an angel. To love her, is to love an angel fallen from grace that struggles to pick up the shattered remains of her heart. Perhaps that is why she tried so hard to touch everyone - she was merely searching for the fallen pieces of her broken heart. Yet her quest left her even more shattered. The woman I loved was strong, fearless, and unbreakable. The woman I love now is a shadow of her former self struggling to have a normal life yet plagued by the fears and paranoia of her past.
Again the lightning illuminates the sky with such vivid, violent might. Although my heart too was broken that day when I saw her in such agony and torment, I must admit, I am glad she is that woman no longer. The life she devoted herself to was a life of destruction. She never should have played the lightning to their thunder; she is an angel, not a weapon to be used and manipulated at will.
I have never been fond of storms, yet lately I appreciate a unique beauty within their eye. If there had never been such a storm to rage throughout my love's life, she would not be here with me now. She would have contentedly stayed in any of her previous relationships, yet the storm led her to the safety of my arms. I will never leave her as they did; I will never cause her that pain. After seeing her life torn apart by the storm that has plagued her since birth, I left it far behind and escorted her into a new life. It is ironic that as the storm rages outside, she sleeps peacefully like an angel upon a silver-lined cloud.
Tonight the storm allows me glimpses of her I am rarely allowed. The destructive nature of the lightning took away the technological pleasures of my life for a short time; in this night without the noises and necessities I have become so accustomed to, I have been able to take in her gentle beauty without distraction. To see the soft glow of candlelight dancing across her body as she sleeps to melody of the raindrops is a sight I am honored to have witnessed.
The outstretched limbs of the lightning faintly illuminate her figure, and it seems as though for a moment she winced in her sleep. Jaded memories of betrayal and loss keep her bound to the life she left behind that day. As the thunder rattles the windows, she stirs in her sleep.
"No, no, leave him alone, don't hurt him, oh god," she murmurs, frightened as she slowly drifts from dreams of memories to her reality. Her eyelids slowly lift to reveal her doe-like eyes filled with the raindrops of her internal storm. Her eyes dart around as if to verify that her present location is not the one the ruined her slumber. Finally her gaze rests upon me, and she sighs softly, finally realizing that nothing will hurt her - not until the angels close my eyes.
"I had the dream again," she whispered like a frightened child desperately seeking warmth and protection from her fears. "It was so real. I thought I was living through it again. I saw him, and I just."
I gently wrap my arm around her and pull her closer to me; she sighs again, knowing that I will never let that happen again. She gazes at me with her fears twinkling in the droplets that mask her eyes, and I immediately know what is crossing her mind and frightening her all over again. Each time she awakens from reliving that day, she looks at me as if wondering how much time fate has allotted to us.
"It won't happen to me," I whisper to her gently. Her eyes widen just slightly, as though she is amazed at how well I know her. I wonder if she realizes that I do love her unlike the others in her life. "Sydney, I promise you, it won't happen to me."
She nods her head slightly and whispers back, "I want to believe you."
"Then believe," I say, kissing her forehead gently, and then I change the subject as I must. "I should blow out the candles; they've been burning for quite awhile now."
I slowly move to get up, but she suddenly grabs hold of my arm. I turn and gaze at her as the lightning again flickers against her skin as if to alert me of what threatens her within. "Don't leave me," she pleads, and then adds softly, "not yet."
After offering a gentle smile, which she willingly accepts, I settle back in, comfortably entwining my arm around her figure and pulling her against me. She rests her head against my chest and whispers, "I feel safe with you."
To hear those words reminds me that I have done at least one thing right in my life; I have saved this angel from a fate she never deserved. Thunder rumbles outside, but she does not stir. Despite the lives of impossibly and danger we have led individually, it amazes me that I am allowed to be here in this moment.
Once she seemed to be bound to a dream that was based purely on regulations of agent protocol and avenging the deaths of those she loved. But that day her outlook suddenly changed. She ran with a fear possessing her that I have never seen before. They destroyed her; they took her very essence and shattered it. It sickens me to see how empty she has become; she lives day-to-day in fear of what could happen next. They made my angel fall, but somehow she fell into my arms. I long to destroy those who did this to her, but if I were to return to that life, it would destroy the fragile angel that remains.
I find it ironic that the life of "playing by the rules" so to speak caused her to be broken in ways unimaginable, yet our life together that defies the principles of our life of espionage is the only way to piece her shattered heart back together. As I lie here with Sydney Bristow in my arms, I feel no shame nor regret for our defiance. I will save this angel at all costs.
"I love you, Sydney," I whisper gently, and she offers the perfect response. She does not stir at all from her new attained peaceful slumber, and by knowing that at this moment she is not afraid, I know she loves me as well.
Chapter 1: I was there for you
I didn't know that it was so cold
And you needed someone
to show you the way
So I took your hand and we figured out
That when the tide comes
I'd take you away
If you want to
I can save you
I can take you away from here
So lonely inside
So busy out there
And all you wanted
was somebody who cares ~Michelle Branch
The lightning stretches its limbs and tries its best to illuminate every corner of the sky; it fascinates me how it tries so briefly and so often to accomplish this feat. It reminds me of her before that day. She had tried to touch everyone's life for the better, but in most cases, it inevitably resulted in being for the worst. To know her, is to know an angel. To love her, is to love an angel fallen from grace that struggles to pick up the shattered remains of her heart. Perhaps that is why she tried so hard to touch everyone - she was merely searching for the fallen pieces of her broken heart. Yet her quest left her even more shattered. The woman I loved was strong, fearless, and unbreakable. The woman I love now is a shadow of her former self struggling to have a normal life yet plagued by the fears and paranoia of her past.
Again the lightning illuminates the sky with such vivid, violent might. Although my heart too was broken that day when I saw her in such agony and torment, I must admit, I am glad she is that woman no longer. The life she devoted herself to was a life of destruction. She never should have played the lightning to their thunder; she is an angel, not a weapon to be used and manipulated at will.
I have never been fond of storms, yet lately I appreciate a unique beauty within their eye. If there had never been such a storm to rage throughout my love's life, she would not be here with me now. She would have contentedly stayed in any of her previous relationships, yet the storm led her to the safety of my arms. I will never leave her as they did; I will never cause her that pain. After seeing her life torn apart by the storm that has plagued her since birth, I left it far behind and escorted her into a new life. It is ironic that as the storm rages outside, she sleeps peacefully like an angel upon a silver-lined cloud.
Tonight the storm allows me glimpses of her I am rarely allowed. The destructive nature of the lightning took away the technological pleasures of my life for a short time; in this night without the noises and necessities I have become so accustomed to, I have been able to take in her gentle beauty without distraction. To see the soft glow of candlelight dancing across her body as she sleeps to melody of the raindrops is a sight I am honored to have witnessed.
The outstretched limbs of the lightning faintly illuminate her figure, and it seems as though for a moment she winced in her sleep. Jaded memories of betrayal and loss keep her bound to the life she left behind that day. As the thunder rattles the windows, she stirs in her sleep.
"No, no, leave him alone, don't hurt him, oh god," she murmurs, frightened as she slowly drifts from dreams of memories to her reality. Her eyelids slowly lift to reveal her doe-like eyes filled with the raindrops of her internal storm. Her eyes dart around as if to verify that her present location is not the one the ruined her slumber. Finally her gaze rests upon me, and she sighs softly, finally realizing that nothing will hurt her - not until the angels close my eyes.
"I had the dream again," she whispered like a frightened child desperately seeking warmth and protection from her fears. "It was so real. I thought I was living through it again. I saw him, and I just."
I gently wrap my arm around her and pull her closer to me; she sighs again, knowing that I will never let that happen again. She gazes at me with her fears twinkling in the droplets that mask her eyes, and I immediately know what is crossing her mind and frightening her all over again. Each time she awakens from reliving that day, she looks at me as if wondering how much time fate has allotted to us.
"It won't happen to me," I whisper to her gently. Her eyes widen just slightly, as though she is amazed at how well I know her. I wonder if she realizes that I do love her unlike the others in her life. "Sydney, I promise you, it won't happen to me."
She nods her head slightly and whispers back, "I want to believe you."
"Then believe," I say, kissing her forehead gently, and then I change the subject as I must. "I should blow out the candles; they've been burning for quite awhile now."
I slowly move to get up, but she suddenly grabs hold of my arm. I turn and gaze at her as the lightning again flickers against her skin as if to alert me of what threatens her within. "Don't leave me," she pleads, and then adds softly, "not yet."
After offering a gentle smile, which she willingly accepts, I settle back in, comfortably entwining my arm around her figure and pulling her against me. She rests her head against my chest and whispers, "I feel safe with you."
To hear those words reminds me that I have done at least one thing right in my life; I have saved this angel from a fate she never deserved. Thunder rumbles outside, but she does not stir. Despite the lives of impossibly and danger we have led individually, it amazes me that I am allowed to be here in this moment.
Once she seemed to be bound to a dream that was based purely on regulations of agent protocol and avenging the deaths of those she loved. But that day her outlook suddenly changed. She ran with a fear possessing her that I have never seen before. They destroyed her; they took her very essence and shattered it. It sickens me to see how empty she has become; she lives day-to-day in fear of what could happen next. They made my angel fall, but somehow she fell into my arms. I long to destroy those who did this to her, but if I were to return to that life, it would destroy the fragile angel that remains.
I find it ironic that the life of "playing by the rules" so to speak caused her to be broken in ways unimaginable, yet our life together that defies the principles of our life of espionage is the only way to piece her shattered heart back together. As I lie here with Sydney Bristow in my arms, I feel no shame nor regret for our defiance. I will save this angel at all costs.
"I love you, Sydney," I whisper gently, and she offers the perfect response. She does not stir at all from her new attained peaceful slumber, and by knowing that at this moment she is not afraid, I know she loves me as well.