Disclaimer: I own none of these characters or situations. It all belongs to the people who own Alias whoever they may be.

Chapter Eight

Since she had joined Sd-6, Sydney Bristow had been in more dangerous situations than she could possibly remember. She had been shot, knifed, tasered, fallen from great heights and on a few occasions that she whole heartedly wished she could forget, captured and tortured. This, however, had to be the worst situation she had ended up in so far.

She had spent most of her first day in absolute panic and terror, mixed with impotent fury, before she had managed to calm down enough to assess the situation. As far as she could tell she was fine. Except, of course, for the fact that she couldn't move any part of her body below her neck. Thanks, to Sloane's gloating, she now knew that she had been drugged. She was still furious, though. Furious that she had been captured and furious that she hadn't managed to thwart Sloane.

The silence and forced inactivity were beginning to get to her, though. She didn't even have the option of trying to plan an escape because she couldn't even move. So, when she heard the fall of multiple footsteps marching down the corridor towards the door to the room where she was confined, she turned her head as much as she could to see what was going on. She listened as the multiple locks on the door were released and tensed as she waited for Soane to enter.

To her surprise, when the door opened it only revealed several of the rent- a-thugs that Sloane populated his bases with. The sarcastic, baiting comment on the tip of her tongue, died as she saw the person who was being dragged into the room. "Dad?"

She didn't really expect a reply; Jack Bristow was obviously unconscious. She watched them for a moment and then looked at the second group of people waiting outside the door. With her father present, she half-expected the other figure to be Vaughn or Dixon. So, when she saw who it really was, she gasped in confusion, "Mom?"

Her mind immediately went into overdrive as she absorbed her mother's unconscious figure. Sydney shook her head as much as she was able to in a futile gesture to gain clarity of thought. If Irina was here like this with her father, she must have switched sides again, or she was at least pretending to have switched sides. The infinitely confusing possibilities were beginning to give her a headache. The burly men ignored her as they roughly strapped her parents to the nearby steel tables that were identical to her own.

With no way to tell time, Sydney wasn't sure how long it took for Jack to begin to show signs that he was coming around. It seemed like forever to her as she watched and waited. The moment his eyes flickered open, she said quickly, "Dad!"

Jack turned as much as he could within his restraints, in his still groggy condition. "Sydney," he questioned, for once his relief at seeing his daughter relatively unharmed clearly evident on his face. "Are you all right," he asked.

"Just a little paralyzed," she tried to joke, but to her surprise and somewhat horror she felt tears begin to prick her eyes. She was used to taking care of herself, both in her life and on her missions and while they were still in a very dangerous situation, it was incredibly reassuring to know her father was there.

"It's okay, Sydney, we will get out of here," he said with as much reassurance as he could muster.

"Of course, Dad," she answered, putting as much confidence into her voice as she could while still almost fully paralyzed, trying to make herself sound as if she really had no doubts at all about that fact.

He gave her a reassuring nod and then began to carefully examine as much of the room as he could see from his present position.

"Mom's on your other side." She didn't even try to keep the anger she was feeling towards her mother out of her voice.

Jack glanced at Irina and then turned his attention back to Sydney. "She approached me about where to find you, you know," Jack said, not quite clear on why he was defending Irina. "She told me where you were and came with me to get you out." Jack carefully omitted the part where he had betrayed Irina to Sloane. Despite her anger with her mother, he didn't think that Sydney would like that very much and he couldn't exactly explain their real plan to her.

Fortunately it seemed that Sydney hadn't been paying that close of attention to what he was saying, to caught up in her own thoughts to listen to him. "I should have shot her while I had the chance. Then none of us would be here."

Looking at his daughter lying there and seeing the self-reproachful look on her face, Jack almost wished that he had never joined the CIA, heard of Laura Bristow, or headed Project Christmas, not if this was the price, Sydney had to pay. "Sydney, not shooting your mother is nothing to be ashamed of."

She looked at him as if he had suddenly sprouted horns or tentacles out of his head. "Dad, she shot me! And she let Sloane capture me!"

Jack forced himself not to smile, despite the seriousness of the situation, at how much she sounded like a whiney child.

"She betrayed us and she used us," Sydney continued.

Jack sighed. Sydney was an amazing agent, but sometimes he forgot how young she was and how much she had yet to understand. Despite his malicious feelings for Irina, Jack understood her motivations. She was a spy. It had been her job, just like it had been Sydney's job to steal people's secrets from the many times, even from people that trusted her in some small or large way. Sometimes his daughter seemed to forget that. It was a form of hypocrisy that allowed agents to function at their best and perform jobs that comprised a person's morals and ethics. It did make trust a rather large issue, but that too was part of the job. He was spared the need for comment, however when Irina woke.

"Jack," was the first word out of her mouth, quickly followed by, "You Bastard!"

He and Irina had agreed on their plan before hand and he had executed it to perfection, but Jack was still unsure whether she was referring to him or Sloane. "It's good to see you too, Irina," he said dryly.

Sydney didn't acknowledge her mother's return to consciousness or her colorful comment, but Jack noticed the slight hitch in Irina's breathing when she noticed her daughter's presence. "Hello, Sweetheart," she said quietly.

Irina didn't even flinch when Sydney turned her head away. Instead, she struggled with her restraints for a moment in an effort to raise herself up off of the table as much as possible to get a better view of Sydney. "Sydney," she tried again to catch her daughter's attention. Her daughter didn't respond or even turn her head, but somehow, Irina still managed to get the impression that if she could have moved Sydney would have shot her a very rude gesture.

Of course, Irina with her famous or at least infamous stubbornness wasn't about to give up. Not now, not when this might be her last chance to talk to Sydney like this. And after all she had a captive audience, literally.

"Sydney," she started with more determination this time, "I know you don't want to listen to me especially not now, but I need you to know that I love you."

"Why so that you can manipulate me better?" Sydney asked sarcastically.

Irina almost smiled; at least it proved that she was listening. "No, Sweetheart, because I might not get another chance to tell you and I didn't want to add that to my list of regrets." Irina was unable to stop her eyes from flicking to Jack as she said that. She was surprised to find him looking steadily back at her and quickly turned her attention back to their daughter.

She had finally turned to look at her mother, but anger still burned brilliantly in her eyes. "You sure have a funny way of showing it. Most mother/daughter events don't involve being paralyzed or captured by a power hungry psychopath."

"I know," Irina admitted and to everyone's shock, she added, "and I'm sorry about that. I know it can't change or make up for anything I've done in the past, but I did bring your father here. Some things I won't apologize for. I won't apologize for keeping you and your father safe as best as I could, no matter what methods I used."

Sydney remained quiet this time and for the first time, Irina began to hope- a habit she had forbad herself years ago- that Sydney was accepting at least a little bit of what she was saying.

"I know it seemed like I betrayed you and," she added carefully, "your father after the opp. in Panama, but in my own way I've been helping you and working inside Sloane's operation to hinder him as much as I can."

Irina was well aware of the fact that the room was monitored. In fact, she was counting on that fact. She had an ulterior motive beyond talking to Sydney. This confession could serve to reinforce her betrayal of Sloane and make Jack's offer more appealing.

Sydney suddenly seemed to develop a deep interest in a spot on the ceiling and she seemed to be lost in contemplation. Then, she looked back at Irina, locking eyes with her mother in a way that was practically a challenge. "Vaughn and I were supposed to meet his mother for dinner when I got back from this opp."

Irina was at a loss for words. There was nothing she could say. She had been responsible for the death of William Vaughn and she freely admitted it. As she lay back in defeat she asked quietly, "What do you want me to say, Sydney? William Vaughn's death is my fault. I met with him one day at a safe house where he had been stationed with your father. Jack had told me where it was in case I need to get a hold of him in an emergency. You'd had a very severe case of chicken pox, when he was first assigned there," she explained. Pausing she seemed to be almost visually trying to collect her emotions and Sydney realized for the first time, that telling this story was truly having an effect on her mother. Was it even possible that Irina Derevko was feeling remorse?

"Your father had left on a mission and I wanted to know when he would be back. So, it is my fault, that with the way I had been acting the KGB, they thought I was betraying them. That I was a double agent and William was my handler." She shrugged as best as she could, "I couldn't convince them it was an innocent conversation. He was killed and I was pulled out a few months later."

Sydney was silent. Her own failures as an agent and the ways they had hurt the people she cared about, haunting her. Irina was too lost in her thoughts, to notice though. A man had died because of one careless trip. Because she wanted to know when her husband would be home, not to steal information from him, but simply to see him and be with him again. She could be ruthless, but even the great Irina Derevko had limits and the death of William Vaughn was just a waste.

"Mom," she heard Sydney say softly, "I believe you."