A/N: Once again, thanks to Egyptian Kat, Karmen, snowangel4, and
ILoveTheMatrix for reviewing. I hope you guys like this chapter, and I
would LOVE some feedback so I can know what the heck I'm doing.
Chapter 5
White.
Blinding light. Light? That couldn't have been right. Sydney hadn't even seen the shadow of day in what? weeks? months? years?
No, of course not, it was those hallucinations again. The only difference now was that they were fuzzy, eroded by the waves of time. No longer could she remember specific events or people. Sydney couldn't even think of her own middle name.
All her illusions now came in short bursts of color. Blue. Red. Green. Yellow. Orange. And now it was white.
Forgetting did not bother her anymore. She knew she wasn't real, why bother with the trifles of falsity? No, what hurt her the most was that she was no longer able to hear his voice. To smell him, to taste him, or hear him laugh. He was real. But now Sydney could not feel his warmth, see the sparkle in his eyes.
All she saw was a soul-shattering smile.
No face. No name. No nothing. Blinding unreal.
White. This was definitely not Cloud 9.
Her mind was once again deceiving her, preying on her weakness for survival. She heard sound, a cacophony of shouting echoed throughout the cell, taunting her to believe in reality. As the racket grew louder with the pounding in her head, Sydney dared herself to wake up.
Beat herself at her own game of deceit. Prove that the world was made of silence and pain.
But suddenly, the door to her cell burst open. Dazzling white light streamed out, blinding Sydney with its intensity. Still, the shouting grew. She knew it then.
She had gone over the edge, flirting with the edges of death.
"Agent Bristow, are you conscious? We're CIA Special Ops. We're here to rescue you ma' am. Agent Bristow?" a voice said from the chaos of noise.
"NO! Don't listen to him, Agent Bristow! Sloane has sent a special task force out to find you. Don't be fooled by them. We're the ones here to rescue you!" yelled another voice from above the dim.
Heading swimming with thoughts of death and the end, Sydney struggled to sit up as someone cut through her bonds. What? That question kept reverberating through her mind. Who knew dying was so complicated?
Somewhere between the clamor of the men and the banging in her head, Syd found the sense to pinch her left arm. She felt a sharp jolt of pain.
Pain, welcome to reality. Pain was real. This was real.
Alive. She was alive and suddenly being pushed to the door. The men kept shouting at each other, each claiming to be her rescuers, each pushing and pulling at her.
As Sydney paused on the threshold of the cell, white dueled with black until the brightness won out, growing in intensity each passing moment.
Suddenly, as she crosses the final barrier, the white light hits her full on, washing Sydney in all its warm. Embracing. She was back. Step by step she had bridged the gap between Real and Unreal. A surge of emotions assaulted her as she made her way into the day. Sadness. Joy. Gratitude. Anger. Confusion.
Here, under the glow of the golden jewel of the sky, more men clad in black were shouting at each other. Foreign words like the CIA and SD-6 were tossed around. The two rivals were each clearly vying for Sydney.
But why was she so important? After all this time, she was just a being with working lungs. Her soul was lost; colorful memories buried under a mountain black silence.
As soon as Sydney made her way fully into the midst of the throng, two men started rushing toward her, both racing to get to her as if their life depended on it.
A dirty blonde man in his mid-thirties reached Sydney first and flashed her a dazzling smile filled with warmth and welcome. His eyes sparkled with delight in the midday sun.
"I've missed you so much, Syd. It's good to see you safe now," he stated with as much compassion in his voice as he could muster.
"Syd. He called me Syd. Only he would call me that," Sydney thought, mind digging deep for memories. A smile. Clear, sparkling eyes. That was all she was able to dig up, but it was enough for her. "This is him."
And without further ado, Sydney rushed eagerly into the arms of Sark.
Three feet away, the other man stopped dead in his tracks, face draining to a ghastly white. His emerald eyes clouded over with a pearly haze.
A/N: Lame? Cliché? Good? Horrific? Please tell me, and I will willing oblige.
Chapter 5
White.
Blinding light. Light? That couldn't have been right. Sydney hadn't even seen the shadow of day in what? weeks? months? years?
No, of course not, it was those hallucinations again. The only difference now was that they were fuzzy, eroded by the waves of time. No longer could she remember specific events or people. Sydney couldn't even think of her own middle name.
All her illusions now came in short bursts of color. Blue. Red. Green. Yellow. Orange. And now it was white.
Forgetting did not bother her anymore. She knew she wasn't real, why bother with the trifles of falsity? No, what hurt her the most was that she was no longer able to hear his voice. To smell him, to taste him, or hear him laugh. He was real. But now Sydney could not feel his warmth, see the sparkle in his eyes.
All she saw was a soul-shattering smile.
No face. No name. No nothing. Blinding unreal.
White. This was definitely not Cloud 9.
Her mind was once again deceiving her, preying on her weakness for survival. She heard sound, a cacophony of shouting echoed throughout the cell, taunting her to believe in reality. As the racket grew louder with the pounding in her head, Sydney dared herself to wake up.
Beat herself at her own game of deceit. Prove that the world was made of silence and pain.
But suddenly, the door to her cell burst open. Dazzling white light streamed out, blinding Sydney with its intensity. Still, the shouting grew. She knew it then.
She had gone over the edge, flirting with the edges of death.
"Agent Bristow, are you conscious? We're CIA Special Ops. We're here to rescue you ma' am. Agent Bristow?" a voice said from the chaos of noise.
"NO! Don't listen to him, Agent Bristow! Sloane has sent a special task force out to find you. Don't be fooled by them. We're the ones here to rescue you!" yelled another voice from above the dim.
Heading swimming with thoughts of death and the end, Sydney struggled to sit up as someone cut through her bonds. What? That question kept reverberating through her mind. Who knew dying was so complicated?
Somewhere between the clamor of the men and the banging in her head, Syd found the sense to pinch her left arm. She felt a sharp jolt of pain.
Pain, welcome to reality. Pain was real. This was real.
Alive. She was alive and suddenly being pushed to the door. The men kept shouting at each other, each claiming to be her rescuers, each pushing and pulling at her.
As Sydney paused on the threshold of the cell, white dueled with black until the brightness won out, growing in intensity each passing moment.
Suddenly, as she crosses the final barrier, the white light hits her full on, washing Sydney in all its warm. Embracing. She was back. Step by step she had bridged the gap between Real and Unreal. A surge of emotions assaulted her as she made her way into the day. Sadness. Joy. Gratitude. Anger. Confusion.
Here, under the glow of the golden jewel of the sky, more men clad in black were shouting at each other. Foreign words like the CIA and SD-6 were tossed around. The two rivals were each clearly vying for Sydney.
But why was she so important? After all this time, she was just a being with working lungs. Her soul was lost; colorful memories buried under a mountain black silence.
As soon as Sydney made her way fully into the midst of the throng, two men started rushing toward her, both racing to get to her as if their life depended on it.
A dirty blonde man in his mid-thirties reached Sydney first and flashed her a dazzling smile filled with warmth and welcome. His eyes sparkled with delight in the midday sun.
"I've missed you so much, Syd. It's good to see you safe now," he stated with as much compassion in his voice as he could muster.
"Syd. He called me Syd. Only he would call me that," Sydney thought, mind digging deep for memories. A smile. Clear, sparkling eyes. That was all she was able to dig up, but it was enough for her. "This is him."
And without further ado, Sydney rushed eagerly into the arms of Sark.
Three feet away, the other man stopped dead in his tracks, face draining to a ghastly white. His emerald eyes clouded over with a pearly haze.
A/N: Lame? Cliché? Good? Horrific? Please tell me, and I will willing oblige.