DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters, except for the original ones, dead or alive. If I wasn't Catholic, or, if I can choose my own belief, then Alias is my religion and JJ Abrams is my god. But that would be blasphemous…

A/N- another long chappie… sorry… and, smut at the latter part of the chapter. You've been warned.

I appreciated your reviews, albeit a little violent. I will be thinking about your suggestions pertaining to the resurrection of Ana… right… hehehehehe :D

---

---

She was silent in the whole course of the plane trip. The only words that come out of her are, No, I'm okay or I feel fine, thank you. She didn't shed any tear nor did she scream again.

All Irina did was to stare blankly in the window. Looking at the dark clouds, repressing all the anger and sorrow inside her heart. The pain in her arm could not distract her from her emotional pain.

'It's your entire fault. You killed her, Irina. You killed your own daughter with your stupid decisions.' A thought said. 'You gave her too much freedom. That choice cost her, her life.'

"Mom…?"

Irina quickly looked to where the voice came from. She was half-expecting Ana to be sitting next to her, with a goofy smile on her face. But it was Sydney.

'It's unfair to Sydney and Jacob. Forget about Ana…'

"Yes?" Her voice is clear. It did not betray the emotions that are bottled up inside her.

"It's not your fault."

Irina blinked with the remark.

"Honey…" Irina said and then she was hugged by her eldest daughter. "I was selfish, Sydney. I thought I could make it up to her. It's my fault she's dead." Irina whispered. She's fighting back the tears that are forming in her eyes.

"Mom, you tried…" Sydney replied. She felt a sting at the back of her eyes. Her mother is blaming herself.

'Did she react this way when they thought I died?' Sydney thought, but realized that the question was biased. Too one-sided.

Katya was observing Sydney and Irina. Her sister's eyes are too empty and her face is too pale. 'She needs to cry.' Katya thought. She waited for the tears to fall on Irina's face but they didn't come.

Katya looked at Jack. He is sitting at the far end of the plane, his face buried in his hands.

'Why can't they mourn together?' Katya asked herself.

The thing that happened between her and Jack, it was nothing. Jack wanted to find Irina and he thought he could find Irina through her. A fling was the easiest way to do that, since Irina is one of the most elusive people she has ever met. That fling was one of the most passionate and yet coldest night she has ever experienced. A paradox. Jack wants Irina, not her. She's just… someone.

"If you keep everything inside, you'll die early." Weiss whispered to Vaughn. Vaughn just looked at him.

"Yeah, you see I had an uncle. He repressed all his emotions. Kept it all inside. When he hit fifty, he died. Left my aunt and their three children." Weiss explained.

He thought Vaughn was listening. But he wasn't. He was looking at Sydney. She is now talking to Irina, and he watched as Irina tell her daughter to get some rest. Sydney seems to be comforting everyone inside the plane, except herself.

Sydney stood up and went to sit on an empty chair. She couldn't understand why Ana died. She seemed so kind and so full of spirit. Sydney felt a kindred attachment to her even if they spent only forty eight hours together. But then again, they had a friendly relationship when she was Julia Thorne. Ana said so herself.

'Life is precious and short. She was barely seventeen. Why did she have to die?'

Sydney didn't notice Vaughn slip beside the empty seat beside her.

"You okay?" he asked. Sydney nodded her head but a stifled sob escaped her lips.

"Syd, its okay to cry." Vaughn said. When he said that, the tears began to run down Sydney's face. Vaughn leaned forward and embraced her. She needs it.

'I wish I could tell you that everything will be fine. But I can't. That would be a lie.'

-x-x-x-

A week since Arriana Giselle Derevko's burial has passed. Sydney and Jack are staying with Yelena, Katya, Byron, Dante and Francis in Irina's chateau. The two of them both requested for a personal leave for three weeks. The matter of 'death in the family' was understood by Dixon.

"Your mother is acting like a robot."

Sydney glanced up from her breakfast and saw her aunts, Katya and Yelena, looking at her. It's been three days since their arrival and the mood in the house is still in mourning.

"She said she was fine when I asked her." Sydney said. But she didn't believe her mother. She looks so haunted and hollow.

"Irina needs to cry!" Katya exclaimed. "Everybody needs to cry once in a while. Why can't she cry? Especially when it concerns the death of her daughter!"

"Katya, its no use getting angry at Irina." Yelena said in Russian. The very thought of her dead niece brings tears in her eyes.

Sydney just sighed and shook her head. Her mother is acting like a big rock. Emotionless and cold.

"Sydney, make your mother cry." Katya suddenly said.

"I already tried. She just hugged me and said thank you. I was the one who cried." Sydney answered as she took a spoonful of cereal.

"When she was extracted before, she came back with the same expression on her face. She was in a state of denial." Yelena told Sydney as she sat down opposite her.

"State of denial?" Sydney asked.

"She kept on repeating that she didn't love your father and that her loyalty is for her country. A fool could see that what she's saying is the complete opposite." Katya answered.

"Your mother is supposed to be mourning. Not going on with her life like nothing happened. She's going to die of heartache if she doesn't break." Katya muttered.

"We can't force her to cry." Sydney stated, looking at Katya.

"Repressing what you feel, especially anger and sadness could cause you health problems, dear." Yelena said and smoothed a strand of hair from her face.

"Where's your father?" Katya asked after a few minutes. An idea popped in her head.

-x0x-x0x-x0x-

Jack was lying in his bed, reading a thick paperback novel which he brought with him. He was threatened by Katya and Yelena during breakfast that he will not be served dinner if he will not be able to make Irina cry.

'What kind of older sisters are those two?' Jack asked himself. But he was distracted with the thought that Irina did not shed a single tear before, during and after the funeral. It was so… eerie.

Jack closed the book and stood up from the bed. He was going to go to Irina's room to say goodnight to his son. He walked out of his spacious, comfortable room, to go to the west wing where the Irina's bedroom was located.

The door was open, so Jack went inside and closed the door. Nobody seems to be inside. He then heard a tinkling of music coming from one of the adjoining rooms, which was open.

Jack walked towards the room and took a peek. He knows that this is Jacob's room because of the soft green hues and the secure but calm feeling the room exudes. He softly treaded the carpeted floor, in case the baby is already sleeping. He reached the beautiful hand-crafted cradle and looked at his son. Jacob is sound asleep.

His heart tendered at the sight. He gently stroked Jacob's head and said a quiet goodnight. He then decided to find Jacob's mother. He went out of the room and slightly closed it. Jack moved to the opposite side, where the other adjoining room is located. It was wide open and so he entered.

The room has white walls but the top and bottom parts of the walls were painted blue, yellow and orange. The room exudes warmth and fun but at the same time, child-like. The bed also has the same colors as the walls and there were a lot of pillows. A computer sat in the mahogany study table and a CD player sat on another table. Jack surmised that this is Ana's room. Irina is sitting at the edge of the bed, looking at a picture frame. He went to her and sat down beside her.

The picture was taken in a park. Jacob was being carried by Irina while Ana was seated beside Irina, carrying a humongous lollipop. All three were all smiling. Jack noticed that Ana has deep dimples in her cheeks whenever she smiles. And then he noticed a slight scar in her left eyebrow.

"Ana was like Sydney. She will make you smile if you're sad or angry, even if her day is as irritating as yours." Irina said as she gently outlined the frame with her fingers. Sadness can be traced in her voice.

Jack didn't say anything. He let her talk.

"She got that scar when Khasinau smashed her violin in front of her. Ana would rather play the violin than study. And stupid Khasinau destroyed the violin because Ana would not listen to him. Alexander destroyed a fricking Stradivarius." Irina said, referring to the scar in Ana's upper left eyebrow.

She then let out a deep breath and returned the frame to where it was placed before. She then left the room. Jack followed her out.

"You should go and sleep." Irina said. She is standing next to the king-sized mahogany bed.

"Why?" Jack asked in a challenging tone. 'She's not mourning at all. She's trying to deny the fact that Ana's dead.' He thought.

"Just leave me alone." Irina answered.

"So you could wallow in self pity? Stop blaming yourself, Irina. It won't bring her back." Jack said coldly. He hopes that his response would draw out the tears and not violence from Irina.

"You don't know what I'm feeling." Irina snapped back, her eyes, blazing with hurt and anger. They were also brimming with tears.

"Are you trying to forget that you raised and loved Ana? Is that why you can't mourn?" Jack asked callously.

"No!" Irina choked, the tears spilling out of her eyes like water escaping the dam. A wounded sound tore from her throat and she kneeled down on the floor, crying.

Jack bit his tongue. He finally succeeded in bringing out the tears from her, but he feels so foul doing it. He approached Irina's helpless form and went down on his knees beside her.

"Irina…" he said as he kneeled beside her. His tone is gentle, comforting.

"It was my fault. She died because of me."

"No, she didn't."

"Yes, she did. I should have stopped her. If I did that…" Irina sobbed. Her shoulders are shaking so hard and she can't breathe with the pressure in her chest.

Jack leaned forward and embraced her. She stiffened when she felt his strong arms encircle her but the emotional need for another human being's touch weakened her stubbornness.

Irina wept and Jack held her. "I'm sorry sweetie. I'm sorry…" he whispered, cradling her. He knows that no words can bring comfort to a grieving mother. She reacted the very same way when Sydney 'died'. He gently stroked her hair as he listened to her rants and curses. Irina cried all the sorrows, anger and hurt that she is feeling. They were so repressed inside that she feels that she's going to burst if she tries to restrain it again.

It took a long time before she stopped crying. And when she did, they just stayed in their position.

Irina feels so safe and loved whenever she's in his arms. She always does. But there's no more reason for her to stay in his embrace. She sighed and gently pulled back from his arms. Irina looked up at his face. Jack's eyes were so intense and sincere.

She slowly stood up and also pulled Jack to his feet.

"I haven't told you this, but I thank you for giving me such beautiful and wonderful children." Irina said as she touched his cheek.

She leaned forward and kissed him.

'Her lips are so soft.' Jack thought as he kissed her back. His hands instinctively held her waist.

Irina's gentle kiss turned aggressive. Jack groaned a bit when he felt her hands travel downwards.

"Irina…" Jack managed to say.

Their lips parted. Irina looked at him, her hands on his hips.

"You'll get angry after this."

"If you think I'm going to be sorry, you're wrong."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She kissed him again, this time with more urgency and need. Jack responded with equal want. Desire is pounding in their heads.

Irina pressed her body onto Jack and then pushed him to the bed. She dragged his shirt over his head and began to explore the ridges of muscle that she could never get tired of.

She was desperate for more. All the repressed feelings she still has are now all converted to urgent longing for him. Irina started to pull down the waistband of Jack's shorts.

Jack groaned and rolled on top of her. He kissed her again, as he took off every article of clothing she has on. He nipped the bottom of her lip and began to lower his mouth downwards. She gave a throaty moan when he greedily ravaged her. She heard his ragged breath matching hers as he both drove them out of control.

She wants to scream, to voice out what she wants. But only torn gasps were the only sounds she could make as he entered her and drove her to a staggering climax.

Then, his mouth found hers again and even if her nails are painfully digging in his shoulders, he still managed to drive them both to a world without reason, only passion and desire present.

-x0x0x-x0x0x-

Jack stroked her hair as she slept. He's thinking about what just happened. 'Did I take advantage of her?' he thought as he listened to her breathing. He kissed the top of her head and caressed her right arm.

'Damn, she'll get angry at me and then herself.'

She sighed and then shifted her position.

"Jack?"

"Yeah?" He answered.

"I'm sorry."

Jack was puzzled with what she said. He looked at her.

"Why are you saying sorry?" He asked.

"I forced you into doing this." She answered.

"No, you didn't." Jack replied then kissed the top of her forehead. "Go to sleep."

"Jack, do you want to see Jacob every week?" Irina suddenly asked.

"Yes. But don't you think it would be too much for the baby? Let's just talk about this tomorrow, sweetie."

"But…"

Jack silenced her protests with a kiss. "Go to sleep."

"Only if you'll stay."

"Where do you think I'll be going? I think you ripped all my clothes." Jack said jokingly. She snuggled closer to him and after a few minutes, fell asleep again.

Jack sighed and pulled up the blanket up to her shoulders. He then wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes.

---

A/n-reviews are welcome.