"Fancy meeting you here"
A knock on the glass partition of his cell interrupted him from his stupor. He looked up from his sitting position at the face that he saw in his dreams. Or nightmares. He couldn't tell anymore.
She looked at him sadly, her eyes full of tears she couldn't shed. . He hated that look. He hated pity.
"I don't have much time" She said "But there are so many things..."
"Sydney. Stop." His voice was cold. But she heard it, even though he tried to hide it. He tried so hard. She still heard the pain.
"Sark." She shook her head. "Julian-"
"DON'T" He threw himself at the glass, slamming his fists against his cage, trying to scare her. She didn't jump. She didn't wince. She didn't look away. And it killed him.
He watched as a tear escaped and ran down her cheek. He resisted every urge to wish he was the hand that wiped it away.
"Why are you here Sydney? Come to pay your final respects?" He asked in the harshest tone he could muster. He wanted her to feel the same pain. The same gut-wrenching " I need you, but can't have you " pain.
He closed his eyes. He knew what was coming. He knew he was going to die, that she was going to be the one to take him
"WE don't have much time" she started again and pulled out a pen. "I've disrupted all video and audio surveillance and the gate is down. They can't get in."
She flicked an invisible switch on the pen, a laser shot out, and soon, there was a hole where there had once been a lock.
"What now?"
"You run"
"Alone?"
"For now."
She gathered her composure. He was surprised. She had never been one to hide emotion. She reached inside her jacket and pulled out an envelope.
"This should help you get out of the country. Don't go to the house in France, it's been compromised. There is a helicopter waiting for you on the roof it will take you anywhere you want and the envelope should be enough to get you started anywhere you want. Maybe that island you told me you visited with your mother when you were young. What was it called? Isla- something?"
He shook his head as she said this very fast. And then he kissed her. She made to pull away, but he held her in an iron grip. It would be the last time, the very last time this was possible and he wouldn't let her ruin it. Not again.
"Go."
That one simple whispered word broke his heart. He didn't believe that was possible once. She changed all that for him. He wasn't sure yet if it was good or bad. She was talking, but he wasn't listening. He was busy memorizing the shadows on her face, the curve of her lips, the way the corners of her eyes wrinkled when she tried to keep from crying. Oh, how he would miss her.
Then he heard "You have to fight me." and he looked up in surprise.
"Oh, come on Sark" They were back to Sark, it would be easier that way " they aren't going to believe that I just 'let' you go, they have to think I put up a fight."
Her eyes sparkled with a challenge. She grinned. His grin.
It was on.
All of a sudden there was a fury of arms and legs, punches and parries and shouts of "come on! You can do better than that!"
He pressed Sydney against the wall with his forearm cutting off her air supply. She kicked away and landed a blow to the small of his back.
"The helicopter won't be there forever. You can't hold back"
And that was receive with a punch to her face.
"I'm not holding back, Syd. You've just gotten better" He gasped out, trying to stand up.
"Do what you have to do Sark. I lo-"
And he knocked her out. He wouldn't be able to leave if she said it.
"I love you too Sydney Bristow." He whispered agonizingly and kissed her lips. A tear fell on her cheek and he wiped it away.
It's better like this he thought. I wish I could believe what I tell myself.
He climbed the stairs to the helicopter and jumped in. Irina was sitting in the co-pilot's seat and she turned around with a sad smile on her face.
"Julian" she began.
"Don't Irina" He sighed. "Just- just don't. Let's go"
And he watched. Watched as the only thing he had ever loved, ever truly wanted to keep, was ripped away from him. Stolen by fate.
"Goodbye love. Goodbye"