The Aislin Chronicles
Part VIII
A/n: Yay, I love reviews! They made me sooo happy! I'm really, really sorry this took so long, but we had some unexpected family stuff happen, then it was finals week and agh, I just didn't have anytime. But here it is! I pulled through! Yay me. Oh, and I'm too lazy to proofread. Sorry.
2-15-03
10:04 AM
Day Four at Jack's:Mmm, just woke up a little bit ago. Conditions: I had this weird dream last night… Jack and I were at a therapy session. We each had to say one thing we liked about each other. I said I liked his sauce. He said my accent was cute. But then this like club music came on and I was running through a club with all these neon lights and I was being chased. I thought it was Jack chasing me but I looked back and it wasn't him. Don't know who it was, but not him.
Man, that's really weird.
10:08 AM
So, Jack likes my accent. Ok, dream Jack in therapy. Hm.
I think this craziness can only be cured by breakfast, but I don' really want to go downstairs… Does he have cereal? Maybe I'll just make toast. I know he has bread and a toaster, and then I won't have to ask him anything. Or maybe he had to work today. I don't know.
10:40 AM
He was in his office, thankfully. So I didn't have to deal with him during breakfast. (By the way, he has no cereal, I searched. That's a crime.) I did find some strawberry jam to put on my toast, though.
I just don't know what to do today. I'm computerless, and I don't feel like watching TV ALL day (part of the day, yes), but I do have a phone. Maybe I'll call Jess. And Kathleen. And Dee. And Fini. I need something to do. That's it, I'm calling Jess.
10:42 AM
On the phone with her. I'm amazed she's awake this early. Says her little brother started jumping on her bed. "Jess, I don't know what to do today. I don't know what I can do," I tell her.
"I think you should run around in your bathing suit and sing the national anthem at the top of your lungs."
"No, seriously." I've just realized I don't know the national anthem here. I'll have to have Vaughn teach me. Wait, nor do I own a bathing suit…
"So what's this Jack guy all about? What's the deal?"
Sigh. I can't tell her about the real Irina. "Well, his wife died a long time ago… Sydney was six."
"That's too bad." She sounds saddened by it. I wish I could tell her the truth, which is much sadder.
"Yeah, but that can't be why he's so mean. You'd think he could get over it thirty years later." I'm tired of discussing Jack. "What's your English paper on, again?"
"AIDS."
"Cool."
"It's pretty interesting. Adam's doing NASCAR." I hear her sigh, I'm sure she's rolled her eyes. "I don't get it. What's exciting about watching cars drive in a circle? Kathleen only likes watching if there's a crash. I don't mind as long as no one's hurt."
We're quiet now. I don't really have anything to say. I'll ask her again. "So what should I do today?"
"I don't know, Ais." Hehe, I like when people call me Ais. "Didn't you say there were a bunch of books somewhere?"
"Yeah, here in Syd's room…" I scan them over.
"You could read. Or– ooh –you could explore Jack's house!"
Whoa, um, no. That's death waiting to happen. "I don't think Jack would like that so much." Even if he's in his office, he's probably got security cameras planted or something. Creepy Jack. Who makes good sauce. "So my dad called last night. They aren't engaged yet."
"Crap, and that was Valentine's Day even."
"I know. But they seem to be having fun together." This just isn't working. I'm going to have to deal with Jack sooner or later, aren't I? Ugh.
"Okay, I have to go. Roxy needs the phone. Call me if you get bored again."
"Okay, bye."
"Bye."
10:52 AM
I think I'll explore Sydney's book collection. Later, journal.
11:45 AM
Yeah, not in the mood for reading. I wonder how badly Jack would murder me if I planted the pen somewhere in his office and he found it. I'm thinking bad. My poor pen, sitting here all useless. And poor me, sitting here all useless as well.
I guess I gotta watch TV all day. Sigh. Sigh sigh sigh.
Eek hearing footsteps hold on.
11:49 AM
Ok. That was weird. That was Jack (well, um, who else could it be?). He stood in my doorway and looked at me with that look he gives, you know, with his eyes sort of squinting and like he's sucking in the corners of his lips. That look. Then he said we were going out to lunch. And he left. I assume he wants to go now. Sure, while I'm still full from breakfast, Jack.
See, this is why you're in therapy with me!
Um. Dream me…
1:01 PM
I can't stand this. I don't want to stay here any longer. I hate being bored and ignored for days on end. Guh!!! So I meet Jack by the door and we walk out to his car, and then we drive in silence. Pure silence. No radio. Me scarcely breathing. That kind of silence. I'm too timid to ask him where we're even going. Anyway, we get to this restaurant that seems rather upscale for lunch, but this is Jack. We sit down, and soon this man sits down at our table and he and Jack start discussing business crap.
The whole time.
I only spoke to order my food.
Oh my gosh, this is so boring. I hate this, I hate him! Was it necessary to even take me? No. I stay home alone all the time. What the crap? He's insane. Oh, and the only thing he did say to me, after the man left, was, "We're leaving."
Is it really that hard for him to be nice? Or social? Or civil? Or NORMAL???? I want Dad to come home. I want Sydney. Get me away from here.
I can hear Donovan's paws against the wooden floor coming down the hallway. He's waddling in here now, escaping Jack's wrath, no doubt. He's the only one who understands. And sadly, he's a dog.
1:07 PM
And now I'm talking to the dog… Out loud… Like he's a person. Ah. Oh well. I can only hope Jack doesn't have any pens hidden around the house like I do at home and he doesn't catch me in my acts of weirdness.
1:09 PM
At least he thinks my accent is cute.
2-16-03
6:55 PM
Day Five at Jack's:Five? That's it!? Conditions: Good grief. Ha, I showed him. I hope he noticed how cold I was to him at dinner. I was totally ignoring him. Not like we said anything. But yeah, he was so experiencing my unbearably cold shoulder. Take that, Sauce Man! Hahaha! That's for all the ignoringness and extreme bouts of boredom you've put me through. Oh, it's cold, isn't it, Jacky-boy?
Oh wait, I forgot, Jack doesn't feel. He has a black heart. And… He hates kids. Mainly me. And we wants me to suffer and wither away and die into nothingness up here in Syd's old room.
Well, now I'm going to enjoy the rest of my evening up here away from him and should I choose to go downstairs I shall ignore his presence as he ignores mine.
…Thank God there's school tomorrow.
2-17-03
3:46 PM
Day Six at Jack's: Kill me now. Conditions: Thank God for school. Ah, I felt so much better from the moment I watched Jack's car drive farther and farther away from school. It's like Superman and kryptonite. My strength just kept growing and growing the farther that nasty green lump of stone was away from me. And then SuperAislin arrived in social studies just as we begin our unit on Europe. Wonderful. Everything I've already learned! That was sarcastic. I'm not excited to relearn all this historical junk. I don't even think it's much history, it's all "place the countries on the right spot on the map and name their capitals." Oh, Mr. Richards, your class is so easy. And your pants are too short. And no one here roots for Purdue.
Apparently Jess told Kathleen about how horrid Jack's was. She asked me if Dad called again with any more news. He hasn't called back yet. Hopefully soon. Blech. I wanted to get out of the subject of Jack and jump into anything else. I guess we're going to do another project on a country like we did for Africa. Ireland would be so easy. Hmm, I could make soda bread! Yummmmmmmmmm. Haven't had any of that in a long time. Used to make it a lot, too. Maybe I'll make some for the heck of it when Dad gets back home.
Next hour was math. And we got new seats. I sit next to this kid named Ian Schmidt. He's got these really pretty blue eyes… And he's tall. And hilarious. We sit in the back corner by no one except that quiet Japanese girl who is a math genius, so we talked like the whole class. I don't know how Frierson didn't notice. I think we were doing something exponent-y. Yuck. We're supposed to have memorized numbers 1 to 25 squared by Friday or next Monday or whenever. I'll ask Kathleen, she was probably the only one listening.
Let's see, oh gym. Crappity crap crap. Boring. We went outside to play football. It would have been fun except for some of the boys in my class. And the fact that I don't really understand how to play. I ended up standing with the girls who never do anything watching Dee as she ran around the field pulling plastic flags off everyone's hips like a maniac.
Spanish was Spanishy. Lunch was tasty. I got one of those giant chocolate chip cookies. Oh yes. And English was nice and Englishy. Science was… Ugh. Dr. Kazsuk is so old and grody. We're starting this unit of animals and habitats and stuff. And we're taking a field trip to the zoo. We have to have this slip signed by Friday. I guess that means Jack.
Cue creepy music.
I guess I'll bring it down at dinner and force myself to talk to he who shall not be named I suppose I must do my homework, since there is nothing better to do.
8:30 PM
Oh my gosh, I… This is insane. I don't even know where to begin. Just, wow. I never knew, I, oh man. I want Vaughn to come home so I can talk to him. And Sydney too. I'm so confused and, wow. So, um, dinner was more interesting than usual. Much more. I suppose I should start from the beginning but I really don't want to. Sydney's mom fricken killed Dad's father!!!! I don't believe it. How could I not have known???
Right, the beginning. Okay. Breathing now. So I headed downstairs for dinner with my slip of paper curled in my cold little hand. Really, it's rather chilly inside. But that's not the point, so I stood next to Jack where he was pouring milk for us at the counter. I saw our food sitting at the table. Chili. Yum. And some bread. No sauce, though.
He didn't acknowledge me, no surprise there. I cleared my throat. "Could you sign this?" I asked quickly.
His eyes moved only to the paper. "What is it?"
He kept pouring the milk. "For a field trip."
"Where?"
"The zoo."
He put the milk back into the fridge and set the full glasses onto the table and we sat down. I slid the paper towards him and took a sip of my milk. His lips were in a pursed position as he read the mumbo jumbo about the trip above where he was supposed to sign. He hesitated a moment before pulling a pen from his inside his jacket and scribbling his name on the line.
"Thanks," I whispered. I noticed he didn't check the box marked 'I'd like to be a chaperone.' Funny, I was sure he'd check that box.
Yes, I'm sure you're wondering, dear journal, what on earth this has to do with SYD'S MOM KILLING DAD'S DAD. Well, moments after that brief discussion, if one may call it that, I remembered that I was extremely fed up with Mr. Mystery and his sauce (or lack there of). And the silence that settled in started to make me crazy(ier than I already am). And then, I don't know what happened… I snapped. I slammed my milk glass onto the table and I stood up.
"Ok, I'm sick of this! I've been ignored this entire time and you have been nothing but unpleasant to me! I don't know if this is how you were with Sydney, but if you were, I'm surprised she doesn't hate you!" He just sat there silently, in shock I think from my outburst. "Are you mean to everyone? Or just me? Is it because your wife lied to you? Because that happened a long time ago, it's time to get over it!"
I realize now that… That may not have been the best choice of words? Dad's right, when I'm angry, I'm really pissed off.
Jack's spoon was half way to the bowl after taking a bite full of chili. He promptly swallowed and stared at me so blankly I thought I'd pee my pants. He didn't say anything at first, he may have blinked once or twice, and I realized through my fear that I, Aislin Conor Vaughn, had rendered Jack Bristow speechless.
8:41 PM
Okay, so I didn't realize it then. I was too busy attempting to control my bladder. When I thought I'd burst and explode into little Aislin atoms he finally said, "Excuse me?"
Somewhere between the bladder control and realization issues I found some more boldness in me. "She died and you abandoned Sydney! And now… I don't know, I guess you hate kids or something!"
"You are not entitled to formulate opinions of my past actions."
"Past or present… Doesn't matter."
"Present? Are you implying that I'm a horrible father still!? That I'm a malicious, unjust, miserable old man who has no feelings!?"
"You're arguing with a twelve-year-old."
As he yelled his eyes narrowed down towards me and his mouth snarled as his speech sped up in the anger. But then do you know what Jack did? He just stopped. I thought he had a stroke or a heart attack or something right at that moment. His expression just… There wasn't one suddenly. And then he walked away. Jack turned around, walked into the dining, and turned to the right and disappeared around the corner.
And how can Dad possibly call me mature? I start fights with highly revered agents of the Central Intelligence Agency, I dance around the kitchen, and I watch myself in the mirror as I try to move my eyebrows around my forehead. Yeah, real mature.
Well there was nothing else I could do but follow him, I mean I had to say something, I couldn't just walk away like him. So I forgot my pee problem and forged ahead into the spotless and underused dining room and 'round the corner into the family room. I remembered it well. I watched a lot of telly in there on New Year's Day when we all had to come here for breakfast.
Jack stood to the left in front of a bookshelf, holding a photo album. I approached him with caution and peered over his shoulder. On the left page was a picture of Irina and a very young Sydney, and on the right was a picture of Sydney at my age, maybe slightly younger. His finger rubbed over the corner of Irina's picture.
"When she died," he said, shocking me so much I heart jumped and skipped two beats, "and I found out how she betrayed me, I busied myself in my work. It pained me to see Sydney; I only thought of her more, and I… vaguely resented her for it. As a result, I was never around while Sydney grew up. I didn't know how to act, what to do, what to say. That's probably why we failed to build a decent relationship until she was an adult."
He closed the album gently, a wave of smoke billowing from its contents. I bet he hasn't touched it in years, I feel bad.
"Then why do you hate me so much?" I asked. Have I no compassion?
But whatever, I suppose it doesn't matter, because his reaction: he laughed. Laughed. As in "hahaha," a hearty chortle of sorts, a light guffaw. I had no idea he was capable of laughing. "Come sit down," he said softer, indicating the couch against the wall. Behind it was a large window with long, flowing drapes of burgundy colour. Color. Crazy Yanks. We settled into the squishy brown leather and I pushed myself back into its corner. I was confused, I think. Jack was very unpredictable now. Terrifying.
He continued. "I'm very far from hating you. In fact, I rather… envy you." Envy? ME? Okay, what's he been smoking? "You and Agent Vaughn have something special that I never shared with Sydney."
"Well, we both lost our dads," I added. And Sydney kind of lost hers too…
"Yes, but you differ from Vaughn greatly, and that is where you mystify me." He studied me for a moment, looking down and chewing the inside corner of his lip. At least his eyes weren't the least bit squinty or angry. Just curious. I bet one hundred Euro my eyes were just mirror images of his; I mystified him? "You don't hate Sydney for what she did? Vaughn could never be respectful in the slightest to Irina."
What, Irina? What does she have to do with Dad? I furrowed my brow. "How do you mean?"
"Excuse me?"
"What does Vaughn have to do with Irina?"
Jack's face surprisingly didn't change. "You mean you don't know?" I shook my head. Oh man, this is crazy. I can't believe he never told me. Well, Jack's reaction was priceless. I don't think the man had ever accidentally given away a secret in his life. And usually he's probably calm in new situations, but this one just left him plain confused.
His mouth opened and closed a few times. Finally he pursed his lips tightly staring at me like he was Daddy Warbucks seeing orphan Annie for the first time. (That was a good movie, I just watched it on TV last night. That Miss Hannigan is a riot.) "Shit," he calmly swore, standing up. "Why don't we go finish dinner?"
Oh come on, Jack. I don't have ADD, I haven't forgotten already. "Only if you tell me about Irina and my dad." Ha, I have you trapped, big CIA man.
I'm sure if he was a normal person who couldn't hide their emotions, he would have winced at his mistake. Giggle, mistake. "All right," he settled, and watched me march off the couch back into the kitchen. Our chili was probably cold. Oh well. I was about to hear a story.
Jack was sluggish as he followed me back. When he took his seat, he didn't even start eating again. I picked at my chili but watched him intently. "What do you know about Sydney's mother?" he asked.
"I know that Syd thought she died when she was six, and then it turned out Irina was in the KGB, and then she turned herself in. And she's in prison now."
He nodded. "What do you know about Vaughn's father's death?"
"Not much, I know Vaughn was eight, and his dad died on duty or something."
"Something you need to know about Irina Derevko is that she has no remorse, and guilt is an ambiguous subject to her. That ability allows her to do anything, to anyone. And she killed Vaughn's father."
I'm such a dope, I never saw that coming. Irina bloody killed him, gosh, it still sounds crazy. The only thing I could think to say was, "Why?"
"Her true intentions are unclear. But as I stated, she feels no remorse, and could only identify his body by his dental records."
My mouth hung open in shock. "So she just killed him? For fun?"
"Perhaps," he pondered, his right hand clenched around his glass of milk.
That is absolutely horrible. I wanted to call Vaughn so badly, but I don't think he's at his mother's anymore, and even if he was, we don't have that number. He needs to call. I NEED to talk to him.
9:04 PM
Oh, I suppose the rest of dinner went smoothly. I mean, I was in complete shock, and I wanted to talk with Vaughn, but we had a normal conversation. Weird, huh?
9:10 PM
At least Jack doesn't hate me. I think we'll be getting along better than previously.
9:12 PM
School tomorrow will be so awkward. Jess will be impressed with the Jack-Situation improvements. But it'll be hard not to talk about Dad and Irina. Wow. No wonder I mystified Jack. Vaughn must really hate Irina. I'm mad at her too. I want to talk to Vaughn. If he doesn't call tomorrow I'll cry. For real.
A/n: What? I finished this part? Rejoice; this is a miracle! Again, I'm really sorry it took so long. All that stuff happened and then Jack was being his stubborn Bristow self and wasn't working with me. Maybe I'm underpaying him. Hm. I'll give him some cookies, I bet he likes them.
So I'll really try to have the next part up sooner. Sydney and Vaughn shall return (or shant they…?) Mwhaha. Just playing with you. Please review! It will mean so much to me if you leave me even a wee message!
–Whitelighter Enchantress