Author: Kityye
Summary: Instead of counseling, Sydney has to keep a journal. This chapter is on Allison.
AN: Two bad words.
Disclaimer: I do not own them.
Spoilers: Season 3, Episode 6
~ : ~ : ~
11/2/03
Someone, somewhere, something, had told me that Allison was dead. Hadn't they found her body? Hadn't they found *my* body? I am such an idiot! If one of us can come back from the dead, then both of us could. Knowing she's alive, though, that she still wears Francie's face…
Francie, whose death was my fault. She was so happy, with her restaurant and her new life. She's only dead because a Covenant operative was sent in to kill me, damnit! If only we'd never met, but I don't think about it because I can't imagine that time of life without Francie. I think that Francie was my first true best friend. She's the first person who ever dared to get close to me, to show me how to live. Now, a murderer wears her face.
How long did Dixon know before he told me? Was he waiting for me to be mentally stable? How little he knows. Dixon, I'm your best spy and an excellent actress. You don't see me at home where I rant and cry and scream to ease my pain. You didn't bug my house because Weiss is next door; he keeps an eye on me for you. I know you're waiting with mop-up and containment teams for the day I finally snap. "Poor Sydney, she never did adjust; let's get back to our interrupted lives."
I ruin everyone who comes into contact with me! Danny's dead. Will's gone. Francie's dead. Vaughn is starting to give me looks like he wishes he weren't married. Dad was in jail. Mom is in hiding. Dixon's wife is dead. Emily is dead.
I don't think about killing people. I don't think about the people I've shot after I shoot them. I have never planned a murder (well not that i remember). I don't keep a body count. It's a part of life. Disarm, disable. Don't get killed.
Suddenly, I'm contemplating how it will feel to put bullets into Allison's head. I'm feeling the imaginary heft of the weapon, the quick motion of my finger on the trigger. I sight, I pull the trigger. I imagine the look on her face as she falls. Shock. She doesn't think she can be killed.
What the hell is locked in my brain? What did I see, do? What do I know? Why am I starting to think that the "medicine" they gave Allison to turn her into a super-human is something that was also given to me? Why else would they tell her not to kill me? Wound me; I'll get better.
I almost told Dixon what Dad and I were arguing about. I'm not afraid of invasive procedures, no matter what Dad says. They can't be as painful as being kept alive by the Covenant for an unknown reason that is locked in my head. Nothing can be as painful as now.
I'm so tired. I'm in bed, writing, but it's not that kind of tired. I can feel this tiredness in my heart. It's like my body is starting to give up. I'm going numb from the constant bombardment of life. I'm going to make a mistake, soon. It scares me, but not enough to free me from the pain. Not enough to make a difference.
Summary: Instead of counseling, Sydney has to keep a journal. This chapter is on Allison.
AN: Two bad words.
Disclaimer: I do not own them.
Spoilers: Season 3, Episode 6
~ : ~ : ~
11/2/03
Someone, somewhere, something, had told me that Allison was dead. Hadn't they found her body? Hadn't they found *my* body? I am such an idiot! If one of us can come back from the dead, then both of us could. Knowing she's alive, though, that she still wears Francie's face…
Francie, whose death was my fault. She was so happy, with her restaurant and her new life. She's only dead because a Covenant operative was sent in to kill me, damnit! If only we'd never met, but I don't think about it because I can't imagine that time of life without Francie. I think that Francie was my first true best friend. She's the first person who ever dared to get close to me, to show me how to live. Now, a murderer wears her face.
How long did Dixon know before he told me? Was he waiting for me to be mentally stable? How little he knows. Dixon, I'm your best spy and an excellent actress. You don't see me at home where I rant and cry and scream to ease my pain. You didn't bug my house because Weiss is next door; he keeps an eye on me for you. I know you're waiting with mop-up and containment teams for the day I finally snap. "Poor Sydney, she never did adjust; let's get back to our interrupted lives."
I ruin everyone who comes into contact with me! Danny's dead. Will's gone. Francie's dead. Vaughn is starting to give me looks like he wishes he weren't married. Dad was in jail. Mom is in hiding. Dixon's wife is dead. Emily is dead.
I don't think about killing people. I don't think about the people I've shot after I shoot them. I have never planned a murder (well not that i remember). I don't keep a body count. It's a part of life. Disarm, disable. Don't get killed.
Suddenly, I'm contemplating how it will feel to put bullets into Allison's head. I'm feeling the imaginary heft of the weapon, the quick motion of my finger on the trigger. I sight, I pull the trigger. I imagine the look on her face as she falls. Shock. She doesn't think she can be killed.
What the hell is locked in my brain? What did I see, do? What do I know? Why am I starting to think that the "medicine" they gave Allison to turn her into a super-human is something that was also given to me? Why else would they tell her not to kill me? Wound me; I'll get better.
I almost told Dixon what Dad and I were arguing about. I'm not afraid of invasive procedures, no matter what Dad says. They can't be as painful as being kept alive by the Covenant for an unknown reason that is locked in my head. Nothing can be as painful as now.
I'm so tired. I'm in bed, writing, but it's not that kind of tired. I can feel this tiredness in my heart. It's like my body is starting to give up. I'm going numb from the constant bombardment of life. I'm going to make a mistake, soon. It scares me, but not enough to free me from the pain. Not enough to make a difference.