Aftermath



Sometime during the night, the pair had moved to the couch and had fallen asleep leaning against one another. But, sometime during her slumber, Sydney had moved away from Sark, leaving him sound asleep with his elbow on one of the arms of the couch and his hand in a fist propping up his head. His other arm fell limp at his side where it had once been resting around Sydney's shoulders.

Sydney had curled up against the other arm of the couch, needing to put some distance between herself and Sark. Her knees were drawn to her chest and she had rested one arm loosely on them, while her other arm was bent at the elbow with her hand lingering near her mouth where she was unconsciously biting at her nails. Every now and then she stopped to examine them, experiencing some twisted sort of satisfaction at the ripped and ragged state of them as well as the cuticles which were also in the same position of raggedness.

She shivered as well, violent shivers that began in her shoulders and shook her entire body and made her afraid at how intense they were. She forced herself to look over at Sark and instantly felt a clash of emotions. On the one hand, he looked incredibly peaceful and even angelic as he slept. But on the other hand, Sydney thought he looked too peaceful and angelic, like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't told her something as morbid as her best friend being killed and that some sort of double had taken her place.

Something struck a chord within Sydney at that moment. Some sort of double She remembered a couple of months back with Jim Lennox and how some scientist had genetically resequenced himself to look like Lennox. Then she remembered the lab in Poland that she had destroyed. She had discovered that a second person had been taken advantage of like Lennox had. It must have been Francieoh God, how could I not have seen this before? All of her strange behavior, Jesus

Sydney felt sobs rise in the back of her throat and then reverberate throughout her body. She hid her face in her hands, sobbing quietly, tears raining onto her cheeks. She wanted to find the strength to get up and go somewhere else so that Sark wouldn't be able to hear her, but she wasn't able to do so.

She curled her fingers against her cheeks and felt the tattered remains of her fingernails tear a bit against her skin as they were already weak. She pulled her hands away and looked at her fingers, seeing that they were bleeding a little from scraping against her cheeks.

She swallowed hard and wiped her eyes. She sighed a little and looked over at Sark again, relieved that she hadn't woke him. She thought about how she should tell everyone, especially Will, who obviously thought that Francie was away at a conference instead of off with Sloane. Sydney felt a dry laugh rumble in her throat. Obviously that had been a convenient excuse for why she had left. She wondered why the hell she hadn't seen it. How weird Francie had been behaving should have tipped her off but she dismissed it as just thinking it was her new relationship with Will.

She tried to imagine how the CIA would take the news, whether or not they would even believe it. She suddenly felt sobs threatening to overcome her again. It was all too much. Francie was now the second casualty of the spy game Sydney had been playing for almost a decade. Sydney allowed herself to picture what her life would be like had she never found out the truth about SD-6, if she had never told Danny that she was a spy.

For a brief moment, she allowed herself to revel in that thought. She figured she'd be married to Danny, with him thinking that she was a banker. She'd probably visit Will and Francie every so often, and that Will and Francie might have even been able to become a couple. If that was the case, Sydney believed there would probably be double dates every now and then, or evenings when they would all gather and just talk, be happy, not have a care in the world.

She shook her head. She wasn't going to feel sorry for herself. Things had happened for a reason. Plus, she wasn't sure she could even stomach the fact that in working with SD-6 over an extended period of time, longer than the eight and a half years she had already dedicated to it, she'd be helping Sloane build up his empire even more.

She inspected her nails again, frowned at them, figured that Sark would frown at them as well and offer her some sort of comforting anecdote when he woke up. She groaned at the thought. She didn't mind Sark wanting to make her feel better, but she didn't want to be coddled either. After all, hadn't she blown up at Vaughn a couple of months before for doing just that?

She sighed and started to get up when Sark stirred. She wiped her eyes quickly, trying to erase any kind of evidence that Sark might notice to clue him in to the fact that she had been upset and crying.

Sydney kept her knees drawn to her chest, feeling as if that provided her with some sort of protection, and hid her hands in her lap, so Sark couldn't see her shredded nails. She swallowed as Sark sat up, suddenly feeling more nervous around him than she ever had been before. She thought back to the previous night, when she had apologized and felt guilty for doubting him. She realized now that she still had some fragment of doubt in her. She was still uncomfortable with how easily it seemed for him to just come right out and tell her that Francie had been killed. Granted, he did break down when he saw that she was upset, but it could have been an act.

She shivered again as Sark turned towards her, finding herself afraid that maybe that the plan of betrayal she had accused him of actually existed. She found herself huddling closer to the arm of the couch she was leaning against, not wanting to jump up and be conspicuous and cause him to put his plan into action right then and there.

"Morning," Sark greeted her with a small smile, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Sydney just nodded, putting a fake smile into place and trying to ignore the rapid, painful beating of her heart.

Sark's eyes lightened and grew wide as he stared into Sydney's eyes, then let his gaze travel down to her mouth where she had let the smile linger a moment too long. Instantly, he moved closer to her and took notice when she seemed to lean away from him.

"Sydney, I'm sorry about everything," he whispered, touching her cheek and noting that her skin was deathly pale and quite cold.

Sydney nodded and looked down and her breath caught in her throat when Sark lifted her chin up, willing her to make eye contact with him.

"Sydney, tell me what's wrong," Sark coaxed, "you weren't like this last night."

"Nothing's wrong," Sydney said quickly, her gaze following Sark's hand as it moved to her shoulder. His touch sent a shudder through her body and Sark felt her tremors and pulled his hand back.

"Damn it, Sydney," he muttered quietly. "You still don't believe me."

"I do believe you, Sark—Andrew—" she corrected herself when Sark's jaw tensed, "—I-I just—" She was floundering and she knew it and she knew Sark knew it when she saw an angry gleam in his eyes. She clenched her teeth, wanting to match Sark's rage. "I don't know what to believe. I've been lied to all my life, Andrew, and you need to understand that I'm going to have some major trust issues until something along the lines of Sloane's head turning up in a burlap bag happens, and you and my mother are still here, loyal to the CIA, and as relieved and ecstatic as ever that we don't have to deal with him or his Rambaldi bullshit anymore."

"Sydney—"

Sydney stood up. "No, if you have a problem with that, then maybe this shouldn't be happening between us. It's bad enough I have to suffer through this fucking job where I hardly know who my allies are and who my enemies are. I don't want to have a boyfriend whom I not only have a conflicted past with but is someone whom I'm not even sure if I can trust."

"So we're breaking up, then," Sark hissed, standing up as well, inches away from Sydney.

"Until all of this is sorted out, I guess so," Sydney replied, crossing her arms over her chest, as if doing so would somehow finalize the decision.

Sark looked down at her arms and his eyes lingered on the fingers of Sydney's right hand, resting on her left bicep. Sydney panicked when she saw where he was looking and clenched her fist. It was too late, though, Sark had already seen her torn nails. He stepped towards her and reached for her hands, but she stepped back.

"Don't," she commanded, her voice harsh at first before becoming strained and quiet, "please, don't."

Sark recoiled and stepped back, feeling emotionally bruised at Sydney's rejection of him, at Sydney's distrust of him, at Sydney's contempt of him. "Sydney, don't do this."

Sydney felt tears begin to form in her eyes at how vulnerable and upset Sark seemed. "I don't want to," she conceded softly.

"Then don't," Sark said, his tone cold.

"I don't have a choice," Sydney whispered, "you know I care about you a great deal, but I can't deal with this until Sloane is gone. I'm seriously considering telling my father that I don't completely trust you and have him put you and my mother in a cell until we figure everything out."

Sark's expression changed from angry back to desolate. "I can't believe you would do something like that, Sydney, I've told you everything."

Sydney shook her head sadly. "I have no way of knowing that. I have no way of knowing whether or not the man I'm letting into my bed—" she paused when she saw the question in Sark's eyes, 'Is that all I am to you?' "—and my heart, is someone I can rely on, and confide in, and truly trust."

"Sydney, I love you, and I told you that I'm not going to betray you or the CIA," Sark said through clenched teeth. His voice rose, "Why can't you believe that?!"

Sydney felt a chill run down her spine at Sark's outburst. She tried to fix what she had done by stepping forward and placing her hands on his cheeks, planting a soft kiss on his mouth. "I'm sorry, I'm just going through—"

Sark cut her off abruptly. "You're not sorry." He grasped her hands and pulled them away from his face before pushing her away. "You don't trust me. I'm not going to waste my time with someone like that."

Sydney wasn't sure if she was furious or crushed. She sucked in a breath as tears fell from her eyes. "Give me a chance to make it up to you."

"How?" Sark asked pointedly, shooting Sydney a frosty glare.

Sydney threw her hands up in exasperation. "I don't know, whatever you want me to do to prove that I can trust you and that I love you and I want everything to be the way it was."

"You said yourself that the only way that you'll trust me is if Sloane's head turns up in a burlap sack," Sark said harshly. "Who knows how long that will take? Besides, you also said you might have your mother and I put away so we won't even be able to help you, which will make it that much harder."

"Andrew, give me another chance," Sydney pleaded, "just let me show you. I want to trust you, so let me try. Please, I can't do this without you. We'll never be able to find Sloane without your help."

Sark shook his head. "I know you'll tell your father about your suspicions of me, or he'll just pick up on the fact that you're not comfortable being around me and he'll come to his own conclusions and do whatever he sees fit, which means he'll probably just kill me. I think you were right about us. We shouldn't be together while we're still trying to do this. We shouldn't have any emotional attachment. We'll break up and you can tell your father you're suspicious of me and that you want me locked up until Sloane is gone. You and the rest of the CIA can go about your Sloane business while I wait until you have finally disposed of him when you'll finally be able to place some trust in me when you see that I have done nothing to betray you."

"Fine," Sydney said with a nod, "if that's the way you want it even though I want to prove myself to you, then so be it."

"Good," Sark agreed.

They stood there for a moment, staring into each other's eyes, as if trying to find some glimmer of hope within them. Sydney took a few tentative steps towards Sark and let her lips crash against his, their final kiss for what looked to be quite a long time.

She pulled back and they were both breathless. Tears were clearly evident in Sydney's eyes and she could tell that Sark was mostly likely on the verge of tears himself.

She swallowed hard and walked out the door.