Chapter 5: Confessions, Part I
A/n: Yay, reviews! You guys rock; presents for all of you! Well, now that I'm back from DC (where I went on a youth group ) I have to say that it's a very enlightening place. Hot, but enlightening. But let's just say I'd rather be Arvin Sloane for a day than spend another week with that crazy bunch in that crappy room they made us sleep in. Anyway. Yup, I'm pulling out the two parter. AND I'M LEAVING FOR CAMP FOR TWO WEEKS. Sorry. Bad timing, I guess.
Disclaimer: I think we all know by now who owns what.
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Sydney sat at her desk at the end of the week and reflected back. This week, while certainly hectic, was both the best and worst week of her life. Well, perhaps not the worst, but it ranked in the top five, after Danny's and her mother's deaths, among other things. Aislin's father's death was much harder on her than she had anticipated, giving her horrid nightmares and guilty stabs.
She sighed, though, realizing that his death led to the end of the Alliance and her new relationship with Vaughn, who was even more amazing than she could have imagined. She shivered at the thought of how perfect he was.
What amazed Sydney more was how supportive her friends were. While Will, of course, already knew of Sydney's real job, Francie took the news rather hard, but quickly adjusted. Angry at first for Sydney's lies, Will talked her though much of Sydney's job, including how she saved his life. And when Sydney came home from work that day Francie greeted her with a hug and tears in her eyes, thanking her for all she had done. Francie just wanted her friend to be safe.
Sydney bore through endless meetings all through the week since she had no further missions for Sloane. She found herself on several occasions daydreaming about ways to kill him, but then she would spot Vaughn from across the room and fantasize about them together.
It was a great relief to Sydney also when Dixon, Marshall, and many other former SD-6 employees walked in to work the next day as real CIA agents. She apologized to both Dixon and Marshall for not being able to tell them, but they both understood and were glad to at least be able to help out the real good guys.
Vaughn came upon Sydney at her desk. Hey, I didn't think you'd still be here, he said. Friday night, I figured you'd be out on the town with Francie. He smirked; Sydney melted.
I was waiting for you, she answered smoothly, standing up and taking his hand. She squeezed it, her recent habit as a sort of pinch to wake her up from a possible dream. Yet she never woke.
Vaughn's eyes, first warm and witty suddenly changed tones to sincere and determined. Syd, there's something kind of serious we need to discuss. Or you need to discuss, actually... Sydney furrowed her brow and dropped his hand, crossing her arms over her chest. I've been going to talk with Aislin every night after work. I feel bad that she doesn't have anyone to talk to.
Don't agents flow in and out of her safe house, though?
Yes, but you and I are the only ones she'll talk to.
Sydney grew more confused. Where was Vaughn going with this? Why us?
She feels we're the only ones she can talk to, for some reason. I asked her once, and she has a feeling like she can trust us. He shook his head, getting back to his previous train of thought. Anyway, I want you to tell her that you killed her father.
Please, she's scared, and alone, and the truth –
– would only hurt her more! she interrupted. No, absolutely not.
You can't keep this hidden from her forever, she's going to have to learn it at some time.
What would you have done if Irina Derevko confronted you when you were twelve? How would you have reacted if she told you she killed your dad?
His face grew grim, and his eyes narrowed. I don't know, he mumbled, strangle her... His face returned to normal. he continued, she deserves to know. Even I eventually found out who killed my father. And you did it to save Dixon's life. Sydney raised her eyebrows, not convinced. he added quietly, his eyes focused on the ground.
But what?
His eyes snapped up at her, startled. She still doesn't know the truth about the Hierarchy and her father's job. She only thinks her father is an elevator guard at a corporate biotechnology laboratory. I don't have a clue how she'll react to know that her dad was a high ranking officer with access to everything, plus the fact that someone she likes killed her father –
Someone she likes?
Like I said, we've talked a lot this week. There must have been something she saw in you that she liked. You're the first person she spoke to, right?
Sydney sighed; it wasn't supposed to be this complicated. She wished she could just forget everything, but of course, she couldn't. If Aislin trusted Sydney so much, then why should she ruin everything and tell her that she murdered her father, even if she was saving a man's life? She needed more time to think about it, for sure.
Tell her about her father's job and the Hierarchy first. I think she can only take one bit of news at a time. She stared deeply into Vaughn's eyes; he'd have to understand.
All right. But you have to tell her in a few days. Sydney took in a heavy breath and slowly released it. A few days? A few days, she could collect herself by then. She acquiesced and nodded. Come on, he held his hand out to her, I'm making dinner for her tonight at her safe house. We'll tell her then.
Sydney smiled at him and took his hand, a protection for that night, feeling relieved that she wouldn't have to confess to anything just yet.
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They walked down a pebbly path to a red door glimmering in the sunset, a small white house in front of them. Shrubs lined the outline with flowers scattered in front of them. It was rather quaint, Sydney thought, but she sighed. While the outside of the house was lovely, she knew the inside would be difficult to retain her knowledge. Vaughn's free hand grasped the doorknob, and he raised his eyebrows at an uncertain Sydney before twisting it open.
a cheery voice exclaimed with glee as Vaughn entered through the front door. And I see you brought Sydney.
Sydney tried to flash her the most sincere smile that she could, which turned out to almost be a smile of pity. Aislin didn't seem to mind as she beamed at the two of them together.
Vaughn replied. I hope you like lasagna, because that's what I was planning to make.
I love it.
Great. Why don't you and Sydney talk while I start cooking?
Aislin nodded in compliance and plopped comfortably on a light beige couch in front of her. Sydney glanced around the house. The couch in front of her faced to the right, where a living room area was arranged around a television against the wall. To her left was a circular kitchen table with four chairs and beyond that, a kitchen with blue tiled counters, where Vaughn was unloading preparing a salad at the bar which separated the kitchen from the dining area. After the living room on the right was a hallway, where she assumed the bathroom and bedroom were. But her eyes finally settled on the girl, who's eyes told her that she wanted her to sit on the couch.
Everything about her looked as if the sun had faded her apart from her brightly rosy cheeks. Her sandy blonde hair rolled in waves down her back, and her light creamy skin paled both Vaughn's and Sydney's. The color of her eyes reminded Sydney of the last blue that escaped at twilight. Yet her cheeks were pink, and stood out prominently to emphasize her cheek bones.
Sydney finally sat down in the opposite crevice of the couch, grabbing a pillow and squishing it to her stomach; fingering its abrupt corners. Now was the hard part: what to say? she began, biting her lip in rapid thought, scavenging through her brain for a subject. Could you, uh, tell me again how you got into the elevator?
Aislin's face flickered with sadness then returned to normal. My father worked at that laboratory for ages, probably since before I was born, even though he wasn't always an elevator guard. And his boss was Mr. Fitzpatrick right from the beginning. They grew to be excellent friends, and I'm sure he loved me just as his own daughter. He let me visit Father whenever I wanted.
Sydney nodded, finding her Irish accent cute. She loosened her grip on the pillow. This wasn't so bad, talking to the girl. Did your father work a lot?
All the time. He was hardly home when I was... When I was young he would come home every night to sing to me. Although that stopped a bit as I grew older.
They continued to chat, all while Sydney's unease slipped from her and she felt the guilt start to wash away at her comfort with this young person. Vaughn finished making the lasagna and salad not a moment too soon, and both girls' stomachs pained with hunger.
Dinner, or supper as Aislin insisted, commenced and was splattered with light chatter. Both Sydney and Vaughn knew what was coming as soon as they finished.
Sydney was the last to finish. Though hungry, she couldn't eat, realizing that Aislin's idolized image of her father would soon be tarnished for life. But she did deserve to know the truth. And slowly the threat of Sydney's murderess mission crept back into her mind. She tried to push it aside as she shoved the last bit of noodle and meat into her mouth.
Any afters? Aislin questioned.
Vaughn furrowed his brow, his lips parted as if lost for an answer. He had been ready to begin the conversation of her father's real job and she had beaten him to the punch. Afters? Oh, dessert. There's some ice cream in the freezer, but, um, maybe we should wait a while. Aislin shrugged and leaned back in her chair, her hands politely clasped in her lap. There's something we have to tell you about your father, Aislin. Do you remember during your investigation that Sydney asked you about the Hierarchy?
she uttered with uncertainty.
The Hierarchy is a secret organization dealing illegally in espionage, weapons, drugs, and intelligence to gain money and power.
And what do they have to do with Father?
Vaughn glanced at Sydney. This organization, Sydney began, is located in Cork Ireland.
Aislin's eyebrows raised high into her forehead. Where? I must have seen it at some time.
Vaughn continued, It's at the biotech lab that your father worked in. Aislin's jaw dropped. And your father worked for this organization.
No... No.
He was a high ranking officer, hired to guard the elevator to certain floors part time. These floors are where the Hierarchy commissions and runs. You're Father knew what he was doing if he was protecting that area. She continued to quietly protest. Did he ever go away on business.
She looked up from the table; the disbelief glinting off her eyes was laced in anger. For conventions...
He was most likely going on missions. Stealing the weapons or drugs, intelligence, whatever he needed to bring back to his boss. It is Mr. Fitzpatrick, you realize.
Aislin darted her gaze back and forth from Sydney to Vaughn. Have you gone mad!? she shouted, standing up in her sudden rush of emotion. First of all, he would never work for this Hierarchy' and he would never steal anything. Especially drugs or weapons! And Mr. Fitzpatrick is a lovely man... Don't try to tell me that he would run an organization like this!
Aislin – Vaughn attempted to reason with her.
No! Father would never do that! You don't bloody know him at all, why would I believe you?
He died protecting those floors where the Hierarchy existed! Sydney shouted before anyone could interrupt her.
If he did then I'm the bloody Queen of England! she spat back in her rage. Stop lying to me! Vaughn, I thought you were good. I thought you were good too, Sydney. Why are you doing this to me!?
Vaughn tried a softer tone, hoping to ease the conversation. It's the truth.
No! How can you say that? Vaughn's plan had obviously failed. You never met my father! He was already dead when you found me in the elevator with him.
Do you even know why your father died? Sydney asked suddenly. Do you even know why!?
Someone shot him dead to use the elevator? What does it matter?
He was about to shoot a CIA officer. Someone had to stop him from killing a good man.
That's nonsense! Father would never have a gun. And he would never, ever shoot anybody! Honestly, what are you doing to me? Why are you lying? I thought I could trust you guys!
You can, Vaughn conveyed. You just have to listen to us.
Why should I listen to you when you're telling me that my father killed someone!? That's absolutely crazy!
He did! Sydney defended.
Oh and how would you know?
Because I was there, she said, much softer than before.
You were there? Sydney nodded. You were there when it happened? You watched my father try to shoot someone... No! I won't believe it until I see proof.
Dixon has the security tapes. You can watch the tape and determine for yourself then.
Fine! And I'll prove you wrong because my father would never do that... You were there when my father died, too, then? Sydney nodded again. Then why didn't you stop it!? Why did you let him get shot!?
Because I'm the one who shot him!
Sydney's angry breaths lingered heavily in the air. Did she really just say what she thought she just said? No, no! She wasn't supposed to say anything... Ever! Now it was all over, that was it. Aislin would never talk to her again.
Sydney's secret was out; off her chest; the weight lifted from her shoulders. Then why did she still feel so bombarded with guilt and sorrow? She could still remember the look in her father's eyes right as the bullet entered his chest; wide and frightened, like such fear had never befallen him before. A look of worry and concern, uncertainty for the future. And she was the cause of that.
Sydney nervously tucked stray hairs behind her ears and folded her arms across her chest. She stared eagerly at Aislin, waiting for a reply. Aislin's mouth hung open as she gaped back at Sydney: murderer. Her rosy cheeks had brightened to an enraged red and her small hands had balled into fists at her side.
she snarled through gritted teeth, did you just say?
Sydney stood up to her full height – not realizing the pointlessness of doing it to a twelve year old – and dropped her arms to her side. I said that I... killed... your Father. She slowed her speech in amiable proportions for effect, so Aislin could interpret it free of errors or mistakes.
she asked, if unsure the name of the true murderess. What... Why... Her eyes wandered the ground, fluttering aimlessly as her breath rose steadily both in depth and sound. How could you do this to me!? she screamed, tears spilling over her eyes. How could you kill my father!?
He was going to kill Dixon, I had to –
Don't even speak to me! I never want to see you again! Aislin kicked off from the ground, knocking the chair over in the process, and sprinted into her room, slamming the door with a sharp crack.
Sydney let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and lifted her head to Vaughn. His brow was furrowed, and he seemed worried, yet the look he gave Sydney was reassuring, as if he could fix everything. He backed away from his chair and turned to place Aislin's upright, then faced Sydney. At the first movement of opening his arms, Sydney rushed to them and clung to his body as if her life depended on it. She dug her head into his shoulder and refused to speak or open her eyes.
Vaughn carried her out of the safe house, leaving the dirty dishes on the table and forgetting the possibility of dessert. He doubted Aislin would want them to stay any longer anyway.
A/n: Sorry, no updates until after I get back. It's Concordia Camp in MN from July 4-17, then CMU Basketball Camp from the 18-20. Then I'm back for two days until the 23-26 when I'm at MSU Basketball Camp. But please – even though you want to chuck things at me – REVIEW! I feel really bad for leaving you guys waiting for so long, but if it makes you feel any better i don't really want to go anywhere. Well, until Part II and until I get back for those two days.
Whitelighter Enchantress