A Difficult Truth



The briefing was fairly quick. It simply involved Kendall and Jack explaining that they still had no leads on Sloane and that they weren't exactly sure what he might be up to now that the CIA was in possession of all of the Rambaldi items he had once had.

Sydney and Sark walked out of the building later that day, sometime in the evening. Their cars were parked next to each other and Sark looked over at Sydney for a moment.

"I have a suggestion," Sark announced.

"What would that be?" Sydney asked, turning her head to look at Sark.

"How would you like to see my apartment?"

Sydney smiled and pecked him on the cheek. "I'll follow you in my car."

Sark agreed, pulling Sydney to him for something of a lingering kiss and they both went to their respective cars.


A short drive later found them at Sark's abode. They had gone up in the elevator together and now Sark was turning the key in the lock and opening the door to his apartment.

Sydney looked around while Sark ventured to the kitchen for a bottle of wine. The apartment was exactly what Sydney expected it to be: neatly kept and expensively furnished.

Once she had finished her perusing, Sydney joined Sark on the black leather couch as he was opening the bottle of wine.

"I can see you're fond of this place already," Sark said, picking up a glass and pouring some wine into it.

"It's really nice," Sydney told him, glancing around again.

"Thank you," Sark said, handing Sydney the glass he had just filled and picking up the other glass he had brought out. Sydney thanked him and he nodded as he began to fill his own glass. He toasted her and they both took small sips. "Sydney, before we go any further, I need to tell you something."

Sydney gave him a curious look and smiled. "Okay."

Sark sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "Damn it, I should have told you before I let this go as far as it's gone." He stood up, rubbing his jaw.

Sydney stood up as well and went over to him. "What's going on?"

Sark stared at her, searching her eyes and finding that they were filled with fear, confusion, and anger. He sighed and Sydney narrowed her eyes at him.

"Sark," she ground out, knowing it would irritate him, "what is going on?"

"Sydney," Sark began, his voice strained, "your roommate, she's not who you think she is."

"Sark, what are you talking about?" Sydney demanded as Sark bristled at Sydney's second use of his surname.

"Sloane recruited a new asset from a competing organization."

Sydney shook her head. "Francie's not—"

"No," Sark interrupted, "she wasn't. Sloane took a course of action that I begged him not to take. But he wouldn't listen to me and there was nothing I could do. He genetically resequenced his new asset and ordered her to kill your roommate and take her place."

Sydney took a couple of steps backward. "You're lying." Sydney's mind was reeling. Oh God, Francie...

"I swear to you I'm not lying, Sydney," Sark insisted, stepping forward to grip her shoulders.

"Don't touch me!" Sydney shrieked, twisting out of Sark's grasp and shoving him away harshly so that he stumbled a bit. She stepped back again. She backed up against the couch and collapsed upon it, drawing her legs underneath her and curling up against one of the arms of the couch.

Sark hesitantly made his way to the couch, fearing the wrath of Sydney Bristow. He sat down beside her and noticed she was ghostly pale and frighteningly still. He put an arm around her, gently stroking her hair.

Sydney bolted from the couch and began pacing the room. She had her head down a bit as she stared at the floor, unblinking, and Sark was able to catch a brief glimpse of her eyes. He had never seen them look more cold and hard. They had changed from their usual warm chocolate brown to a dark, almost black shade.

Sydney clenched her hands into fists. Dead, dead, dead.

"Sydney you have to believe me when I tell you that I did not want this to happen. I begged Sloane not to take this step, but he insisted. I'm so sorry, Sydney." Sark remained on the couch, letting Sydney have her distance. He knew she would break down soon and she would need him to help her put the pieces back together as best as possible.

Sydney stopped pacing and turned to face Sark, her eyes now glistening with tears and a light, vulnerable tint of dark amber. But what if...

"I believe you," she said quietly, "or at least I would like to believe you. What choice do I have? If you had approved of it, you probably would have killed me too, already, right?" Sydney scoffed. "Unless you have some elaborate plan you're waiting to unleash on me when I least expect it."

Her stomach tightened. Jesus, what if he does?

Sark felt as if Sydney had stuck a knife in his gut. But he wasn't about to let her get away with her accusations. 'Two could play this game,' he decided. "Is that what you think?"

"Excuse me?" Sydney said, narrowing her eyes at Sark.

What the fuck is he doing?

"Is that what you think? That I have some sort of plan that I'm 'waiting to unleash on you' as you call it," Sark said, his tone cold.

"I don't know, Sark," Sydney countered, "should I?"

Sark stood up suddenly. "Sydney, if you don't trust me, how the hell do you expect this—us—to go anywhere?"

Sydney clenched her teeth. "Sark, based on our past, I don't really have reason to trust you. Let's face it, not only have you tortured a dear friend of mine, but you've attempted to kill me. Frankly, I'm not even sure why I even considered this with you. Yes, I will readily admit to being attracted to you, and I admit that I could not have been more relieved to find out that supposedly, you and my mother were working together in opposition to Sloane and that you weren't actually my enemy, but Jesus, our past is fucked."

Sark stepped closer to her, but not too close, so as not to anger her further. "Sydney, let's just get this out in the open. Regardless of what we have done to one another in the past, we ended up finding out that we're attracted to one another and that we like each other a great deal, and—God forbid the words we've spoken were empty—that we love each other. There's nothing we can do to change any of it."

"But how can we do this, Sark?"

"Will you please call me 'Andrew'?" Sark pleaded.

Sydney swallowed hard and her voice was shaky as she spoke. "I don't know if I can right now."

Sark said nothing, only stared into her eyes, seeing the dark brown shield cover them again, replacing the vulnerability of the dark amber. He wasn't going to press the issue as he still wasn't even sure if she believed what he had told her about Francie being dead.

"I need some time alone," Sydney said quietly. "I don't even know what to do right now. I don't even know if I can believe what you've told me. I just need some time to think."

My God, Francie could be dead and I don't even want to believe it. What the fuck am I supposed to do? What if Sark, no Andrew, wait, still Sark... What if Sark is telling me the truth? My best friend murdered by an unknown person and that Sark begged Sloane not to have it done. But if Sark is lying, shouldn't he be killing me right now? Why would he want me blabbing this to everyone if he had something to hide? Jesus, Francie's dead. My best friend is dead. Dead. Jesus fucking Christ. Dead, dead, dead...

Sark placed a hand on Sydney's shoulder and gently squeezed it, then drew his hand away, not wanting to ignite her anger again. "I don't know what else to tell you, Sydney. I assure you I am telling you the truth, but if I try too hard to make you believe it, you'll think I'm lying. So I'm leaving it like this. You can choose to believe me, or you can choose not to believe me. I'm not going to force you, I'm only telling you that what I said earlier and what I said yesterday did not have a single ounce of falsity in it."

"You understand it's hard for me to accept out of the blue that you tell me my best friend and roommate is dead. Especially considering everything you and I have been through." Sydney glanced up at him. "Think about it, Sark, what real reason do I have to trust you?"

Sark stared far into her eyes. "I love you, Sydney. I wouldn't lie to someone I love."

Sydney lifted her chin a bit defiantly. "Then there's a difference between us, because I would—and have. I lied to Danny, Will, and Francie. Then I told the truth to Danny and he was killed. Will investigated SD-6 and was almost killed. Francie still doesn't know the truth and it's kept her safe. Lying to my best friend has kept her safe."

"Sydney, I don't want to make this harder on you than it already is, but Sloane's asset killed your roommate. I'm sorry, and you have no idea how much I want that to not be a true statement, but it is, it's true, and I can't change it, Sydney, I can't." Sark felt his eyes growing moist and he turned away from Sydney, clenching his fists, frustrated that Sydney wouldn't believe him and frustrated that he couldn't take back what had happened.

Sydney took a cautious step forward, taking in the sight of a man whom she had always believed was unbreakable seemingly crumble before her. She felt tears sting her eyes. There was no way, she was sure now, that Sark could be lying to her. She stepped towards him again and took his hand in both of hers as she stood next to him.

"Andrew, I'm sorry."

Sark turned towards her, looking down as she gazed up into his eyes, seeing the dark brown shield gone from her eyes and the vulnerable dark amber back in place. They stared at one another for a few more moments before Sydney rested her head on Sark's shoulder, still clutching his hand.

"Francie's gone," she whispered, scarcely believing that those words would ever come out of her mouth. She tightened her grasp on Sark's hand and felt a single tear roll down her cheek. She wasn't quite ready to break down yet, but she would be soon.

Sark wanted to take her into his arms but knew that by the firm grip that Sydney had on his hand that she wasn't ready for him to do that yet. So he settled for leaning his head against hers and bringing his other hand up match with Sydney's hands.

Neither one knew how long they stood there.