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Sydney returned from Taipei a mess. She had escaped from a fight victorious, but not without her fair share of cuts and bruises. She somberly walked into the warehouse where she was due to meet Sark.
"You look like hell." He sarcastically commented.
"I look better than the other guy."
"Were you successful?" Sydney tossed a black bag at his feet. Sark opened it up to find the stolen hard drive, the black wig, and the op tech in it. "You new costume is in the back. We need to change before we fly." He said, referring to the meeting that they were to attend.
Sydney went into the side room where a makeshift dressing room was made. She looked at her business suit and short blonde wig. Another mission, another disguise. She put the things on, and looked at herself in the mirror. "What happened to Sydney Bristow?" She asked, as she applied pounds of cover-up to her shoulders and face, until they disappeared. Tears began to form, but Sydney was able to hold them back. After all, she did just apply a bunch of make-up on. She threw back the curtain, and looked at Sark already in his suit.
"You missed a bruise on your wrist."
"I am keeping that one."
"Sloane wanted all of them covered."
"This one I did on the plane."
Sark took two steps forward, and took out a bottle of cover-up from his pocket. Sydney thought only for a minute that it was odd that a grown man carried cover-up in his suit pocket, but figured as long as she was a spy using cover-up to hide injuries, why wouldn't any spy, trying to cover bruises and cuts use it on a regular basis. "Give me your arm." Sark demanded. Sydney rolled her eyes but did as her co-worker said. His touch was surprisingly gentle. As the first bit was placed. Sydney flinched. It was cold, and he applied too much pressure on the gentle wound. "I'm sorry, am I hurting you?" He genuinely asked. Sydney nodded, and he began to cover the spot more gentle. "There, now Sloane won't be mad at you."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Sydney looked at the man standing in front of her. She had never seen the caring side of him, only the cold and serious side. "Shall we go?" Sark lent her his arm, and they walked to the car.
Sydney threw her suitcase on the bed the minute she entered her hotel room. Sark was in the next room over. She knew what this room would mean to her forever. This was the mission where she was assigned to kill. She had to kill a man. It had to be the second worst feeling in the world. The first being seeing the ring on Vaughn's finger after she was missing for only two years.
Vaughn.
Everything had to be linked to him. And it hurt. But he still loved her. He stood in her apartment, and said that he still loved Sydney. Not Alice, Sydney. Hope. But it would take sacrifices to get hope. And suddenly, the sacrifices didn't seem like enough. Sydney let the tears flow freely, after holding them in all night. She woke the next morning with red puffy eyes.
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