Earthly Posessions: The Interrogation
Sydney watched as Sark sat perfectly still in his seat. She was watching through a camera positioned in interrogation room four. Dixon was standing next to her, tense with frustration. For the past hour they had attempted to get Sark to talk, but he said he would only talk to Sydney.
She felt a lump form in her throat as Vaughn walked in with Gahel. Vaughn sat on a chair directly in front of Sark and Gahel walked to the corner of the room, slowly arranging the various torture devices he knew so well.
"Michael, what a pleasure. Unfortunately, I'd rather not share your company. I will talk only to Agent Bristow."
Dixon adjusted the volume so that he and Sydney were surrounded by Sark's voice. Turning to Sydney, Dixon looked at her. Sydney, feeling self-conscious, turned away. Finally Dixon spoke.
"I want you to go in there and reason with him." He watched her carefully as she tucked her hair behind her ear, watching Vaughn through the monitor. "I realise it will awkward, Sydney, but he has answers."
Sydney continued to watch as Vaughn gestured for Gahel to approach Sark. Sark smiled at Gahel, as if to say that he didn't care. Gahel took Sark's arm and in one swift movement plunged a syringe inside. Sark's face twisted in pain, his face became red. He looked up at the camera, knowing that Sydney was watching him from the other end. He began to mouth her name when Gahel stabbed Sark's arm with another syringe.
"STOP!" Sydney yelled at the monitor. She turned to Dixon. "I'm going in."
- - -
Sydney walked through the dark hall towards the interrogation room. Gahel and Vaughn were walking towards her, away from the room. Gahel nodded politely at her as he passed her. Vaughn reached out to take her arm, to comfort her, but she glared at him and looked ahead, reminding herself not to look behind her.
She stepped into the interrogation room and sat in the chair in front of Sark.
"Sydney," he said, looking up at with a look of hope in his eyes.
"This is how it's going to be." She reached into her bag and slammed on the table a bottle of Sark's favourite wine, 1982 Chateau Petrus. She uncorked it and placed it firmly in front of Sark.
"Do you work for the Association?"
Sark looked up from the bottle towards Sydney. "No."
"Then what were you doing there?"
"I knew you'd come visit." Sark looked at the bottle again. "May I please have a glass?"
"I don't have time for games," Sydney told him. She took the bottle and thrust it into his mouth. "Suck it up."
Sark started coughing. Sydney pulled the bottle away and looked at him with concern.
"I didn't kill Maddox, if that's what your superiors want to know."
"Where is he?"
"Havana."
"Did you take him there?"
"No."
"Have you done business with Yassin?"
"No."
Sydney took a deep breath and, in an attempt to appear as a good-cop, smiled at him. "You and I both know your loyalties are… fleeting, at best."
Sark snickered and put his hand on the desk, towards Sydney. She looked down at his soft, pale white hands. The handcuffs were digging into his skin, leaving behind red marks, almost like welts. She reached out and put her hand in his, tracing the lines on his right hand with her index finger.
Sark watched as Sydney's fingers softly caressed his hand. He looked up at her, staring deep into her eyes. "Yassin is in Havana. It was a set-up."
"Why should I believe you?"
"Do you remember Adana? Remember what we spoke about in Turkey?" He shifted his weight on the seat. "You have no reason not to believe me."
Sydney watched as his lips twitched. She couldn't believe he had reminded her of Adana. She looked up at the camera, remembering that the conversation was being recorded. She unclasped her hands from his and stood up. She leaned across the table, her face inches away from his. "There is nothing you can say that will earn my trust," she told him. "Especially after Adana."
She walked out of the room and shut the door behind her. She was about to turn and walk back to see Dixon when Vaughn grabbed her arm.
"Vaughn? Wha–"
"I heard what he said. Look, Syd, about that…"
"I have nothing to say to you." Sydney yanked her arm free of Vaughn's grasp and walked purposely away from him.
He ran up to her, stopping her. "We need to talk. You can't keep avoiding me."
"Really? There is nothing I would rather do."
"Stop it, okay? You're not a girl. You have a problem with me, I know, but we have to deal with it. You can't keep me at arm's distance."
"Oh, I'm acting like a girl?" Tears began to well up in her eyes.
Vaughn pulled Sydney close and held her tight. "I know it's hard."
"You have the most amazing ability," Sydney told him, pulling away from his grasp, "to make someone, who through… absolutely no fault of their own," her voice was beginning to crack, "feel like the whole world is their mistake."
"Syd… you don't have to be afraid anymore. Lauren is… gone. She's been gone for almost a year."
"Don't do that!" She said forcefully, looking up at him behind watery eyes. "You're right. We do need to talk about it."
Vaughn reached out to hold her again but Sydney pushed him away. "I can't say this any other way because you it just doesn't get through. I loved you. I [I]loved[/I] you." She took a deep breath and looked deep into his dark brown eyes. "But don't think for one second that I'm going back to you. I don't care how long she's been gone, that was never the point."
Vaughn stared at her, not fully understanding what Sydney was trying to say. He opened his mouth to speak but she wasn't interested in the words he had to say. It was never about words.
"Vaughn, I am not your consolation prize."
Sydney began to walk quickly away from him, knowing that he was standing in the same position, at the same spot, watching her walk away from him. Tears began to run down her cheeks and she wiped them away. The hall was so long and she felt so stupid, having to do the long walk away from him. She was embarrassed, and began to run down the hall. Oh, how she wished the ground would swallow her up so she wouldn't have to face him anymore.
She wanted nothing more than to hold him close, to kiss those soft, supple lips of his and hear him tell her that everything was perfectly fine, that he loved her, that he would protect her from the world, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She often wondered, when Vaughn looked at her, if he was looking at her as if she was the One for him, or if she was the only one he could turn to.
- - -
Four Days LaterSydney sighed in frustration. She never could cook bolognese properly. She turned to spice rack, her eyes circling over the various herbs and spices, wondering which one she could use to prevent further damage of her sauce. Her doorbell rang then, and quickly turning the stove off she ran to the door, thinking it would be Weiss, Marshall and Carrie.
She opened the door and was surprised to see a man from Fed-Ex standing there.
"Delivery package for a Sydney Bristow?"
Sydney smiled at the man. "Yes, I'm Sydney Bristow."
"Sign here", he told her. Once she did he handed her a small package. She took into her hands, thanked him and closed the door.
The handwriting on the package was unmistakable. It was Sark's. She carefully opened the package. There was something soft wrapped with tissue paper. Cautiously she pulled the tissue paper away from the object. Her mouth opened wide in a moment of fierce realisation; her hand automatically went to her mouth, covering it. Her hand started shaking as she realised Sark's reluctance to talk. Her eyes began to water and all thoughts of Vaughn immediately disappeared.
She traced the object in her hands, smiling at it, feeling the happiest she'd been in a while. Her forehead was slightly wrinkled, creased for all the confusion as to the past year. She heard the doorbell ring again, and this time she knew it was her colleagues.
She hid the package behind inside a cupboard, but couldn't bring herself to look away from it. She heard the doorbell ring again and this time she managed to let her gaze wonder away from the white, child-sized satin ballerina shoes.