Chapter Fifteen
He ended up hunched over, knees scrapping the rock near the edge as he searched, over and over again, as much of the pool as he could see; the willows covering small patches which he would check after he finished this round. Hope was a killer, he knew that, to hope for anything, to be expect anything but the absolute worst was to condemn oneself to numerous let downs and he hadn't fallen victim to it until now. It was, in his mind impossible for Irina to have survived, she wasn't a professional diver and she would have been unable to see where she was going, probably plunging head first into rock.
He gulped, "What if Cuvee took her?" he hadn't meant to say it out loud but he had.
Sark walked over to him, still with an incredible façade of coolness and calm, "Jack, forget it, she's dead. I know her, she couldn't have survived unless she entered dead centre and unless she managed to watch where she was going, I doubt that would have been possible in the first place." He sighed and put his hands on his hips, watching the man who he had come to admire.
Jack realized even his words were portraying the false hope he didn't want to have. "What if he took her body," he had to bite his lip then, just to stop whatever emotion was rising.
Sydney answered and her angered, upset tone only worsened the situation, "You think he would?" She paused and no one answered, "Who am I kidding, of course he would." And she broke down again, Vaughn catching her, looking up at Jack who looked half the man he had an hour ago. Both faces were steely but they spoke not a word at all, Jack walking off for the other side of the pool, disappearing under the first of three willows that shrouded the water with green mystery.
Sark followed him, unsure of where this left him; he'd lost the person most important to him, the only person who had any idea, now he was alone. It didn't matter though, look at what she had done, he could only aspire to be like her. He would miss her, not that he planned on admitting it, but she had, indeed grown to be like a mother to him. He shook his head, this wasn't the place to think, this was when he had to hold it together, to manage to throw it all to the back of his mind and ignore it until he was alone and safe, away from ridicule. He raised his hands to move the vines of the tree, stepping through onto the soft and slippery moss.
She'd found him when he was sixteen, a man from a broken family, running around Britain living as he pleased. But, she had told him, he was different because he didn't beg, he lived in the standards he wanted, taking what he wished and always, always getting away with it. He cashed bad checks, stole when he saw something people considered unable to be bought, bought himself companions and when these people bored him he tried to find his own true friends. He had run ins with the law but always escaped, tricking his way out of it.
He remembered Irina saying that it was his mind that attracted her to him, and he, in his youth, having thought they were to be lovers. Now, he knew, that this was what they were supposed to have had, the weird bond between criminals when there is complete trust coming and going with others but always remaining with him.
He stopped as he saw Jack again, realizing he had once again freely chosen to reminisce. He shut his mind down and moved to the edge of the water, peering in to the depths that he could no longer see, what with the green reflection of the leaves that surrounded and covered them. There was nothing, not ever tinges of blood in the water, but then, there wouldn't be. Of all the ways she would go, this had always been the way he'd expected, with complete honour, proving things she could prove no other way. He let his eyes wander over to Jack who was trailing his fingers in the water, clearly not aware of his watchful gaze. He looked sad, but then, Sark had always expected that. He shook his head; he needed to get this over with as soon as possible.
Outside, Sydney and Vaughn had taken a seat on the grass beside the pool; Vaughn was seriously looking to the ground while Sydney's eyes kept sweeping up and down the rock ace, her eyes alert and thinking as she saw the rock curving in and the trickle of water landing a meter in from the pool. It was horrible for her to say the least, to be back here so soon, to see exactly what had happened and how, she recalled in flashes her mother jumping after such a bittersweet goodbye to all of them, she just hurled herself over, backwards and arching in the air as she disappeared over.
She leaned against Vaughn and waited for her father to return, she hadn't seen him like this since the last time she'd died. And now it was worse, she thought, instead of shutting down, he was turning on, becoming human just so he could experience the remorse, the misery and the grief that was now inevitable in light of what she had given up.
She swallowed and continued to let her eyes sweep up and down the rock face, hoping that Jack would hurry up and come back out. All she wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed and die. Finally she understood what the loss of Laura might have done to her father, the knowledge of the lies, the knowledge that she'll never be seen again, the knowledge of that kind of loss. Sydney really, truly wanted to shut down. But not forever, thanks to her mother, she had people to hold on to, her father and Vaughn to begin with and victory over SD-6.
She knew she was grasping at straws, but she wanted this to all end with at least some happiness.
Jack pushed through the second curtain of willow vines and branches, making his way along the pool edge and watching for any movement. Already he'd been startled twice, causing his entire body to flex, but both times it had been a tiny fish jumping in and out of the water. He sighed, the loss eating away from him slowly but surely as he looked at the water, bending over and looking, dipping his hands every now and then to catch the cooling water that had taken her. Still, he found nothing and the chilling concept that Cuvee might have her body became more and more real.
He sat down, there was another curtain to his right, but right now he wanted to think, it was what he should have done straight away, sat down and thought, so he did. The moss was slick beneath him and probably staining the clothing with green, but he didn't care, he bowed his head, resting his forehead on his fingertips and worked at it in his mind, starting with the most distant, irrelevant things he had to work on.
First there was the matter of Sark, there was little he could do with him and while it was his duty as an American to return him to America, he wasn't going to go back on his last agreement with Irina; he would let him go and do whatever it was he wanted to do. It wasn't as if he could possibly be in any more trouble, but like that mattered. Sydney was in trouble now as well, he'd broken their mother out and now that it was going to be said that he had betrayed the CIA his daughter was going to have to be investigated as well, no matter that she had been missing at the time of the break out, in the possession of Gerard Cuvee.
Then there was agent Vaughn, he would be added as an accessory and investigated, the facts would eventually rise, the fact that Irina had died as she had and that Sark was now a free man again would be found out via interrogations that, while not cruel could fool the mind, and then, Sydney and Vaughn would be found lying, in charges like treason and accused of letting Sark go. Life was ruined and he had thought it bad when she had been around.
It was than, as he sat on the moss that Sydney ran in, feet slipping on the moss, Vaughn and Sark on her heels as they all tried to navigate the slick slopes of rock. She stopped beside Jack, staring at him a moment, still amazed that he should break so quickly and easily, she took a breath, "She dived of backwards." It was almost an act of defiance, but she seemed hopeful and happy about it.
Jack just shook his head, "What?" he looked for more details.
"I've been thinking, when she jumped, she threw herself over backwards and bent over backwards in the air, she dived in..." she waited for the look of realization to cross her father's face but it didn't, "I think she would have been able to see where she was going and hit dead centre of the pool."
Jack swallowed, regaining his hardened face in an instant, "Sydney, it that was true, Cuvee would have seen her when she surfaced and we wouldn't have heard him screaming. She is dead, there's nothing we can do about it."
She shook her head, a tear falling, "Then why are we hear?" she spat out.
He breathed out slowly through his nose, "I don't know. We should go." He stood up and readied to leave, knowing this was the end, that he could kill the hope right now and give up, save himself and his daughter the pain of finding the body after another half hour's searching, but he couldn't do it, something forced him to stay still and he hated that, it was entirely unfair, again, but he couldn't leave, not without looking around a little longer, until this begging within him ceased and he could move away. Silently, he knew there was a chance that would be never.
Sydney didn't realize and alongside Sark and Vaughn she began to move to the curtain she'd entered through, finding the whole area enchanting and depressing at the same time, none of them saw him slip through the opposite willow curtain.
A slight gasp drew them back. Jack found himself faced with the body, white and still wrinkled with water and her feet swamped in the water as she lay on the rock, an arm across her face. This surprised him as it meant she hadn't washed up after knocking herself unconscious. He saw the blood stains across her stomach, steeping through and he leaned forward, careful not to touch the red streaked skin. He lifted the black cloth, sheer now with water and clinging to her, he pulled it back and found thousands of tiny cuts running up and down her body, covering her abdomen and every inch of skin the dipped between her ribs. His brow creased and his head cocked as he looked to shoulders where more lines, all heading int eh same direction, from her head to her toes, ran, seeing hot blood little by little.
Sydney entered behind him, covering her eyes and burying her head in Vaughn's chest as she sobbed again, Jack just spoke quickly, "Shhh, wait." And he thought, this was not the time to ask himself questions, his head was a mess, his emotions in the way, but there were several things wrong with this body. For starters, he realized it was bleeding, his wife was bleeding and he knew people didn't bleed after death because the heart stopped pumping, he ran his hands over the wounds on her shoulder, the buts still deep but the skin amazingly smooth and sure enough where he wiped the blood away, a little more came out, not quickly, but enough to arouse him mind to register she was still warm.
For a second he had himself convinced that this was all some cruel trick, that she had been alive minutes before and he'd lost her because he had convinced himself she was dead, and then he realized he was doing it again, convincing himself she was dead, not ready to be hurt again, but he wanted to be positive so he risked it.
Hmmmm? Still no promises of life, I could turn this into a huge tragic ending, have her dead and him just mad etc etc etc, anyways, reviews were great, that's why you suddenly have a heap more of reading to do, ;) Have fun.
He ended up hunched over, knees scrapping the rock near the edge as he searched, over and over again, as much of the pool as he could see; the willows covering small patches which he would check after he finished this round. Hope was a killer, he knew that, to hope for anything, to be expect anything but the absolute worst was to condemn oneself to numerous let downs and he hadn't fallen victim to it until now. It was, in his mind impossible for Irina to have survived, she wasn't a professional diver and she would have been unable to see where she was going, probably plunging head first into rock.
He gulped, "What if Cuvee took her?" he hadn't meant to say it out loud but he had.
Sark walked over to him, still with an incredible façade of coolness and calm, "Jack, forget it, she's dead. I know her, she couldn't have survived unless she entered dead centre and unless she managed to watch where she was going, I doubt that would have been possible in the first place." He sighed and put his hands on his hips, watching the man who he had come to admire.
Jack realized even his words were portraying the false hope he didn't want to have. "What if he took her body," he had to bite his lip then, just to stop whatever emotion was rising.
Sydney answered and her angered, upset tone only worsened the situation, "You think he would?" She paused and no one answered, "Who am I kidding, of course he would." And she broke down again, Vaughn catching her, looking up at Jack who looked half the man he had an hour ago. Both faces were steely but they spoke not a word at all, Jack walking off for the other side of the pool, disappearing under the first of three willows that shrouded the water with green mystery.
Sark followed him, unsure of where this left him; he'd lost the person most important to him, the only person who had any idea, now he was alone. It didn't matter though, look at what she had done, he could only aspire to be like her. He would miss her, not that he planned on admitting it, but she had, indeed grown to be like a mother to him. He shook his head, this wasn't the place to think, this was when he had to hold it together, to manage to throw it all to the back of his mind and ignore it until he was alone and safe, away from ridicule. He raised his hands to move the vines of the tree, stepping through onto the soft and slippery moss.
She'd found him when he was sixteen, a man from a broken family, running around Britain living as he pleased. But, she had told him, he was different because he didn't beg, he lived in the standards he wanted, taking what he wished and always, always getting away with it. He cashed bad checks, stole when he saw something people considered unable to be bought, bought himself companions and when these people bored him he tried to find his own true friends. He had run ins with the law but always escaped, tricking his way out of it.
He remembered Irina saying that it was his mind that attracted her to him, and he, in his youth, having thought they were to be lovers. Now, he knew, that this was what they were supposed to have had, the weird bond between criminals when there is complete trust coming and going with others but always remaining with him.
He stopped as he saw Jack again, realizing he had once again freely chosen to reminisce. He shut his mind down and moved to the edge of the water, peering in to the depths that he could no longer see, what with the green reflection of the leaves that surrounded and covered them. There was nothing, not ever tinges of blood in the water, but then, there wouldn't be. Of all the ways she would go, this had always been the way he'd expected, with complete honour, proving things she could prove no other way. He let his eyes wander over to Jack who was trailing his fingers in the water, clearly not aware of his watchful gaze. He looked sad, but then, Sark had always expected that. He shook his head; he needed to get this over with as soon as possible.
Outside, Sydney and Vaughn had taken a seat on the grass beside the pool; Vaughn was seriously looking to the ground while Sydney's eyes kept sweeping up and down the rock ace, her eyes alert and thinking as she saw the rock curving in and the trickle of water landing a meter in from the pool. It was horrible for her to say the least, to be back here so soon, to see exactly what had happened and how, she recalled in flashes her mother jumping after such a bittersweet goodbye to all of them, she just hurled herself over, backwards and arching in the air as she disappeared over.
She leaned against Vaughn and waited for her father to return, she hadn't seen him like this since the last time she'd died. And now it was worse, she thought, instead of shutting down, he was turning on, becoming human just so he could experience the remorse, the misery and the grief that was now inevitable in light of what she had given up.
She swallowed and continued to let her eyes sweep up and down the rock face, hoping that Jack would hurry up and come back out. All she wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed and die. Finally she understood what the loss of Laura might have done to her father, the knowledge of the lies, the knowledge that she'll never be seen again, the knowledge of that kind of loss. Sydney really, truly wanted to shut down. But not forever, thanks to her mother, she had people to hold on to, her father and Vaughn to begin with and victory over SD-6.
She knew she was grasping at straws, but she wanted this to all end with at least some happiness.
Jack pushed through the second curtain of willow vines and branches, making his way along the pool edge and watching for any movement. Already he'd been startled twice, causing his entire body to flex, but both times it had been a tiny fish jumping in and out of the water. He sighed, the loss eating away from him slowly but surely as he looked at the water, bending over and looking, dipping his hands every now and then to catch the cooling water that had taken her. Still, he found nothing and the chilling concept that Cuvee might have her body became more and more real.
He sat down, there was another curtain to his right, but right now he wanted to think, it was what he should have done straight away, sat down and thought, so he did. The moss was slick beneath him and probably staining the clothing with green, but he didn't care, he bowed his head, resting his forehead on his fingertips and worked at it in his mind, starting with the most distant, irrelevant things he had to work on.
First there was the matter of Sark, there was little he could do with him and while it was his duty as an American to return him to America, he wasn't going to go back on his last agreement with Irina; he would let him go and do whatever it was he wanted to do. It wasn't as if he could possibly be in any more trouble, but like that mattered. Sydney was in trouble now as well, he'd broken their mother out and now that it was going to be said that he had betrayed the CIA his daughter was going to have to be investigated as well, no matter that she had been missing at the time of the break out, in the possession of Gerard Cuvee.
Then there was agent Vaughn, he would be added as an accessory and investigated, the facts would eventually rise, the fact that Irina had died as she had and that Sark was now a free man again would be found out via interrogations that, while not cruel could fool the mind, and then, Sydney and Vaughn would be found lying, in charges like treason and accused of letting Sark go. Life was ruined and he had thought it bad when she had been around.
It was than, as he sat on the moss that Sydney ran in, feet slipping on the moss, Vaughn and Sark on her heels as they all tried to navigate the slick slopes of rock. She stopped beside Jack, staring at him a moment, still amazed that he should break so quickly and easily, she took a breath, "She dived of backwards." It was almost an act of defiance, but she seemed hopeful and happy about it.
Jack just shook his head, "What?" he looked for more details.
"I've been thinking, when she jumped, she threw herself over backwards and bent over backwards in the air, she dived in..." she waited for the look of realization to cross her father's face but it didn't, "I think she would have been able to see where she was going and hit dead centre of the pool."
Jack swallowed, regaining his hardened face in an instant, "Sydney, it that was true, Cuvee would have seen her when she surfaced and we wouldn't have heard him screaming. She is dead, there's nothing we can do about it."
She shook her head, a tear falling, "Then why are we hear?" she spat out.
He breathed out slowly through his nose, "I don't know. We should go." He stood up and readied to leave, knowing this was the end, that he could kill the hope right now and give up, save himself and his daughter the pain of finding the body after another half hour's searching, but he couldn't do it, something forced him to stay still and he hated that, it was entirely unfair, again, but he couldn't leave, not without looking around a little longer, until this begging within him ceased and he could move away. Silently, he knew there was a chance that would be never.
Sydney didn't realize and alongside Sark and Vaughn she began to move to the curtain she'd entered through, finding the whole area enchanting and depressing at the same time, none of them saw him slip through the opposite willow curtain.
A slight gasp drew them back. Jack found himself faced with the body, white and still wrinkled with water and her feet swamped in the water as she lay on the rock, an arm across her face. This surprised him as it meant she hadn't washed up after knocking herself unconscious. He saw the blood stains across her stomach, steeping through and he leaned forward, careful not to touch the red streaked skin. He lifted the black cloth, sheer now with water and clinging to her, he pulled it back and found thousands of tiny cuts running up and down her body, covering her abdomen and every inch of skin the dipped between her ribs. His brow creased and his head cocked as he looked to shoulders where more lines, all heading int eh same direction, from her head to her toes, ran, seeing hot blood little by little.
Sydney entered behind him, covering her eyes and burying her head in Vaughn's chest as she sobbed again, Jack just spoke quickly, "Shhh, wait." And he thought, this was not the time to ask himself questions, his head was a mess, his emotions in the way, but there were several things wrong with this body. For starters, he realized it was bleeding, his wife was bleeding and he knew people didn't bleed after death because the heart stopped pumping, he ran his hands over the wounds on her shoulder, the buts still deep but the skin amazingly smooth and sure enough where he wiped the blood away, a little more came out, not quickly, but enough to arouse him mind to register she was still warm.
For a second he had himself convinced that this was all some cruel trick, that she had been alive minutes before and he'd lost her because he had convinced himself she was dead, and then he realized he was doing it again, convincing himself she was dead, not ready to be hurt again, but he wanted to be positive so he risked it.
Hmmmm? Still no promises of life, I could turn this into a huge tragic ending, have her dead and him just mad etc etc etc, anyways, reviews were great, that's why you suddenly have a heap more of reading to do, ;) Have fun.