Chapter 19

Jack finished brushing her hair and put the brush down.  He debated whether to start asking her questions.  Asking her about the miscarriage had been a risk, but he hadn't felt like he could wait another day or two for the answer to that particular question.  Well, as long as they kept their voices down and kept an eye on the door, it should be all right, he though.  He pulled his chair close to her bed and sat down.  "What's your real name?"

She looked at him, surprised by the suddenness of his question.  "Dawson didn't tell you?"

"I heard it on the tape, but I wasn't exactly in a condition to be remembering details."

Irina was confused.  What tape?  She had no idea exactly how she'd been found out, although she suspected it had something to do with Igor's death.  But she'd known the other night that trying to figure out how she was discovered would be met with suspicion.  And now she was far more concerned with helping Jack through this as best she could than with finding out.  She pushed thoughts of the mysterious tape aside.  "My name is Irina," she said softly.

"Irina," he repeated, just as softly.  Her eyes threatened to tear up at hearing her name said like that.  Even after all she had put him through in the last two days, he still said her name with more tenderness than she had heard since her mother had died.  "Do you want me to call you that?"

As much as she loved hearing her "real" name from his lips, the danger of a slip was far too great.  Besides, after ten years, the name Laura was just as real.  "No, Laura is fine," she said.

"So you're Russian?"  She nodded.  "Where in Russia are you from?"  He tried to keep his tone light and pretend this was just a casual conversation.  In a way, he was meeting this woman for the first time.

For her part, Irina felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.  To actually be able to tell the truth, completely, was an amazing feeling.  For so long, she had lied to everyone.  Even with her handler she couldn't tell the truth, as she had to pretend that she cared nothing for Jack and Sydney.  "Moscow," she said.  "My parents were originally from Stalingrad, but they moved to Moscow shortly after they were married."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"None that lived."  Jack's expression told her to go on.  "My mother had three miscarriages that I can remember.  She had a boy when I was five, but he died when he was a little less than a year old."  She smiled slightly, remembering the tiny little brother that her mother had taught her to care for.  "His name was Vanya.  The Russian form of Jack."

"How ironic."  He was quiet for a moment.  "How did he die?"

***

"Vanya, shhh, stop crying," the six-year-old whispered to the small child in her lap.  "Papa will be home soon.  He won't like it if you're crying."

Mama looked up from the dress she was sewing.  "He is crying because his belly is empty, Irochka," she said.  "I'll have this dress done tomorrow, and I'll take it to the woman who ordered it, and she will give me money to buy bread for you and Vanya."

"When I was little, did I cry when my belly was empty, Mama?"

Mama looked sad.  "Your belly was not empty as often, my dear Irina," she said.  "Times were better then, and your Papa gave me enough money to buy food for you."

"You mean he didn't spend it all on vodka," Irina said petulantly.

"Your father is a good man.  He drinks only because his life is hard."

Even at her young age, Irina could hear the doubt in her mother's voice.  But she didn't have time to dwell on it as the door opened and Papa came in.  "Can't you shut that baby up?" he yelled, and Irina winced.  Papa must have been paid today, for he was already drunk.  His gaze fell on her.  "Irina!  Don't just sit there, quiet that baby!"

She shifted the baby to her shoulder and swayed back and forth on her stool, trying to quiet him.  He only cried louder.

Papa crossed the room in two strides and pulled Vanya from her arms.  "I'll quiet him," he grunted.

Mama dropped the dress and stood.  "Boris, no!" she cried.  "Let me do it."

Ignoring her, Papa started to shake the baby.  "Quiet, you brat!" he yelled.  Mama reached him and tried to pull Vanya away from him, but he kept shaking the baby with one arm and used the other to push Mama away.  She fell to the floor in a heap, crying.

Irina stood.  "I'll take him outside, Papa.  Please don't shake him."

Papa suddenly stopped shaking Vanya and practically dropped him in Mama's lap, then grabbed Irina by the arm.  "Don't talk back to me, little girl," he said.  "You've got to learn your place."  He twisted her arm behind her back until she screamed in pain, then let her go and stomped into the small bedroom.

Irina crawled over to Mama.  "Is Vanya all right?  Did Papa hurt him?"

Mama looked at her sadly.  "Yes, honey, he's sleeping now."

"Natalia!"  Papa roared from the bedroom.  "Get in here!"

"Put him to bed," Mama whispered quickly, then got up and scurried in to Papa.

Irina looked at her throbbing arm and wiggled her fingers.  She didn't think it was broken this time.  She carefully picked up Vanya from the floor and carried him back to her stool.  She watched his chest rise and fall, rise and fall, and…stop.  She stared at her baby brother dumbly for a moment.  "Vanya?  Vanya, wake up!"  She wiggled his arm, but he didn't move.  She started screaming.

***

"Laura?  Laura, are you all right?"

Irina looked at Jack with shock.  "I…"

"Laura, good God, you scared me.  You just blanked out."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.  Suddenly she was craving that drug-induced sleep that she had so despised a short time ago.  She'd tried so hard to forget her father, that beast she had grown up with…  "I think I might need that pain medicine after all."

Jack looked at her with concern.  He didn't know what to say, though, so he simply called the nurse.  A few minutes later, she was asleep once again.