Chapter 6: Confessions, Part II

A/n: Surprise, I'm back early! I got back from Minnesota late Saturday night, and was supposed to go to CMU camp Sunday morning, but I got sick in MN and now I have strep throat. So, right now everything just sucks. My throat feels like it's burning in the fiery pits of Hell, and I can't hear out of my left ear. It's plugged. Don't know why. But enough of my ranting and on with the story.

Disclaimer: JJ Abrams created Alias and I did not. And he also created Lauren Reed. I bet he created my damn strep throat too. Sorry, I'm just bitter right now.

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Three days passed since Sydney told Aislin the truth about the murder. It had also been three days since she had smiled, laughed, or felt happy. Even Jack noticed the usual glow absent from his daughter's face. She spoke and ate little from time to time, and mostly kept to herself. Vaughn grew worried.

Sydney, you have to confront her sooner or later, Vaughn explained to her Monday afternoon. He had just come from debrief and had loosened his tie significantly, and casually slung his jacket over his shoulder upon reaching Sydney's desk. His hands pressed hard against the wooden top as he leaned over his seated girlfriend. I hate to see you moping around like this... And Aislin too.

She never wants to speak to me again, she replied dryly, never removing her eyes from the half written briefing in front of her. Did Vaughn not hear Aislin clearly enough in the safe house? We wouldn't accomplish anything.

I think you'd be surprised... Her eyes lifted to his in confusion, and he stood up to his full height and crossed his arms over his chest. I've gone everyday to reason with her, and I don't know, maybe I'm getting through to her.

An unconvinced Sydney fluttered her eyes back to her briefing. Vaughn noticed and he grabbed her shoulders, swiveled her chair, and leaned over so his mouth hovered by her ear. It breaks my heart to see you so sad, he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. I just want to see you happy again. His lips brushed across her cheek and he proceeded towards the hallway. I have another meeting to get to. Why don't you come by my place for dinner, I think it would be good for you. Sydney watched him as he swung his suit jacket back on and tied his tie properly. He looked back at his girlfriend and sighed, a wrinkled rising across his forehead. I'll see you later, then.

Sydney sat back in her chair and pushed the briefing from her. She didn't want to be thinking about missions, past or present. It was difficult enough to pay attention during the recent meetings. There would be a follow-up mission to Ireland, they were told, in attempt to retrieve anymore information from their secret sub-level. Sydney, however, would not partake in this mission upon her father's request. But despite the fact that she was not going, she still had to write a mission summary.

It did not bother her that she was not included on this mission anyway. She did not want to go back to Cork, where the memories of everything would flood back to her in massive undulations. No, she would never return to the scene of the crime, the place of Aislin's father's murder.

Aislin...

Vaughn was right – she would have to confront her sooner or later, though Sydney particularly desired the latter. Sydney despised the perpetual state of depression she was currently in, and Aislin probably disliked it as well.

But it was not the feelings alone that ate at her at this point in time: Vaughn's words began to echo in her head...

It breaks my heart to see you so sad; I just want to see you happy again.

The sincerity in Vaughn's voice had been spine-tingling, and she still quivered in reminiscence. His words chipped away at her heart and she knew she had a tough decision to make. She remembered his worry also, and refused to be the source of it. Before meeting Vaughn for dinner, she would go talk with Aislin.

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It was nearly seven o'clock when Sydney let herself into Aislin's safe house that night. She had considered knocking earlier, but decided against it; Aislin would most likely not have let her inside.

Upon entering, she was greeted by the distant voices of a Friends rerun and continued to the bar as quietly as she could.

Aislin sat lackadaisically draped over the couch that faced the television and simultaneously had it's back to the kitchen and dining room table. Sydney saw her arm raise with the remote and she turned off the television, but didn't move after the motion; her way of acknowledging Sydney's presence.

Sydney bit her lip. Why was she really here? Did she really want to do this? Yes, she did. Because not only she she want to be happy again for Vaughn, she wanted to be happy again for herself, more importantly. And if Aislin could possibly understand Sydney's emotions, then perhaps all would be well again.

Sydney began slowly, as if unsure to speak at all. She leaned down on the counter of the bar, too afraid to get close to Aislin. She was like a frightened deer, frozen to the spot, and if Sydney attempted to edge closer she would scurry away in the blink of an eye. And she certainly did not want that to happen.

Sydney had also anticipated the silence following her greeting. However, she had not planned what to say next. Sorry I killed your father? she asked herself. She realized it sounded absolutely ridiculous.

I watched it, Aislin muttered, much to Sydney's surprise. Watched what? Sydney wanted to ask. Friends? The Simpsons? Forrest Gump!? She yearned that Aislin would spin around and talk to her. Vaughn gave me the tape – and I watched it – and, and I saw it all.



I actually believed my father would never try to kill someone. Before I couldn't even picture him with a gun. Sydney remained frozen to the spot, her throat cold as ice as she kept silent (A/n: Damn this strep throat...). But I saw it happen. He tried to shoot your friend. And you had to stop him, cause – cause you were the good guys and my father was bad... She sniffled, and Sydney could imagine silent tears trickling down her pink cheeks. Now that I've thought about it for a while, I understand why you killed my father, she continued meekly. And now that I know what his real job was, I'm surprised he wasn't killed sooner. But I don't understand why he'd risk all that and still try to be my father.

You were his life, Sydney said, taking a chance by speaking. He did what he needed to earn money and take care of you... And I'm sorry I had to kill him because of it.

Aislin's head snapped around and looked at Sydney with red, puffy eyes; an unusual commodity to her pale skin. I'm not, she spat. For what he was doing – he was about to shoot a good person! He deserved to die.

Oh, you don't mean that.

I just... Her head fell to her hands, and she began to cry harder than anyone had seen her cry before, and Sydney rushed to the couch, gathering a defeated Aislin in her arms.

She held her close as she sobbed, rocking her for a while, waiting for her tears to subside. But she could not help but wonder in amazement at this twelve year old girl. How could she hold all this raw feeling inside of her for so long? Aislin's emotional capacity was incredible. Vaughn would never allow himself to be held by his father's killer.

Sydney's hand stroked Aislin's soft and wavy hair as her head was buried deep in Sydney's shoulder. She could feel a wet circle forming on her shirt but she didn't care, she needed to comfort this girl as best as she could. But what could she possibly say to her when she stopped crying? The first thing that came to mind was the story of Irina...

Aislin's breaths steadily slowed, and Sydney heard her sniffle as she lifted her head woozily from her shoulder. The sight of her saddened face made Sydney want to cry herself, but she took Aislin's hand and squeezed it as she began to tell the story. When I was little I had the best parents in the world. We would play games and go out together, and we were always happy and smiling. My parents loved each other so much, and me as well. I was their pride and joy.

My mother was my best friend. She was home more than my dad was, so we played a lot more. We would make cookies together, I remember, and when my dad came home he would chase us around the kitchen, and when he caught us he'd tickle us until we fell onto the floor and were covered completely in flour, she smiled in remembrance. But then my mother died in a car accident when I was six.

Dad was never the same after that. He worked all the time and was rarely home. And when he was home, we never talked. He hired nannies to take care of me. Someone would take his food to him in his office so he could work as he ate. I began to hate him. As a teenager I felt lost without my mother. I became so independent without my parents, I did everything myself. We were no longer Laura, Jack, and little Sydney: we became Jack the workaholic and me, a separate entity at only thirteen.

I went to college at UCLA, hoping to become a literature professor just like my mother. But in the meantime I became recruited by SD-6, a covert branch of the CIA. I wasn't to tell anyone that I worked for them. I went on missions and worked for them, I gave them my everything. But then I told my fiancé, Danny, about my job, and SD-6 had him killed. That's when my dad approached me, told me that SD-6 wasn't part of the CIA. They were part of a group called the Alliance that I thought I was fighting. I joined the real CIA and became a double agent with my father to bring down SD-6 and the rest of the Alliance.

It was such a shock to me that Dad worked for the CIA and SD-6... I thought he sold airplane parts all my life. I thought working together would bring us closer again, and I suppose it did because we talk a lot more than we used to.

But I found codes written in some of my mother's books, and I began to find hints that he worked for the KGB, or an old Russian mob group. Vaughn and I followed this pursuit for a while until we were told that it wasn't my father who worked for the KGB, but my mother, who's real name was Irina Derevko.

I was devastated. All my life I grew up believing her to be my hero, and then all of a sudden she was horrible. I never felt so hurt in all my life. Later I learned that she hadn't died in the car crash, that she was actually alive.

Vaughn and I went on a mission in Taipei, and I ended up getting captured. That was when my mother introduced herself to me. And shot me in the arm. I managed to escape, but had another run in with her later. Agent Weiss was shot by one of her men, then she shot and killed her colleague, Alexander Khasinau. Days later, she turned herself in to the CIA, and that was about two months ago. She's now in custody in prison, and we use her knowledge from the KGB to aid us on mission.

Do you miss her even though you know the truth? Aislin asked, her voice sounding small and weak against Sydney's.

I miss Laura Bristow. She was my real mother, a caring and loving person. But Irina Derevko is only an acquaintance.

Is it weird seeing her in prison?

At first it was... But it's part of my job to go talk to her about missions. Sometimes our emotions complicate things, but I try to put them aside when were speaking. When I first spoke to her, there was nothing more I wanted than to see her dead. After all that she did to ruin our family... But now I know we can utilize what she tells us.

Aislin nodded, and a needed silence followed. She sat back onto the couch and let her head sag over onto Sydney's shoulder, and she sighed. Sydney hoped this story would help Aislin in some way, maybe to understand to forgive her father, or maybe just to realize that she isn't the only person ever in this situation, however peculiar it might be.

Just then Sydney knew why she and Vaughn felt so connected to this girl: she and Sydney were quite alike. They both had lost their mothers and grown up with only their fathers, and both the fathers worked too much with similar jobs. She remembered Aislin talking about how her father's boss liked her and felt like she was his daughter; Sloane had always said that of Sydney. And both of these bosses happened to be the leaders of dangerous rogue groups. Both Sydney and Aislin could contain advance and complex emotions for long periods of time before finally crashing. These similarities were blatantly obvious... Why hadn't Sydney seen then before? Obviously Vaughn had early on.

She finally looked at her watch, and it was just past seven thirty. She needed to go to Vaughn's for dinner, in fact he was probably wondering where she was right now. I have to go now, she reluctantly told Aislin, slipping out from the couch and heading to the counter for her car keys.

Her voice was so innocent, and she finally sounded as young as she looked. Sydney stopped and turned around to look at Aislin. Do you think my father knows how much I miss him? And how much I love him despite what he did?

Sydney slowly moved towards the couch. I'm sure he knows. And I'll bet he's proud of you for acting so mature through all this.

Good, cause when I said he deserved to die, I didn't mean it.

Sydney smiled warmly. I know.

A/n: Ahh, don't you just love happy endings of the two parters? Well, I must warn you that the next chapter is going to be very fluffy, so be prepared. And guess what! My throat feels better today!! I can actually laugh and swallow with minimal pain. My ear is still oddly plugged though... Don't forget to REVIEW! Your thoughts seriously make my day, and since I'm sick they may even cure me!
Whitelighter Enchantress