Disclaimer: I don't own Alias and never will. There, are you happy now?
A/N: And the drama continues…
Previously on A fine Line:
"Sark wait!" I yelled.
"What?" he asked turning around.
"Let me come with you." I pleaded.
Chapter 6- Red Rover, Red Rover send Fate right over
---Sydney's POV---
The recollection of what occurred last night kept running through my head as I wondered if I should even be here. Sark had pretended to take me hostage before we escaped from the building. We were at some sort of safe house or at least it appeared that way. We were not in some fancy mansion, far from it. We were in a 6 room house- 3 bedrooms and 2 baths. The walls in the room I had slept in were bare. But there was a wooden dresser to the left of the bed with cologne on it and a fan. It appeared as if someone had stayed here before me and had hid their stuff away in the drawers or someplace else. The only light in the room came from the ceiling fan with a light bulb attached to it. There was a wooden nightstand beside the bed, but that too was bare. There was a closet about 2 feet from the dresser. Save for those few items the room was bare of furniture or anything else for that matter. I had decided last night that I would explore the drawers for any clue as to who or at least what kind of person had stayed here before me. I was in some pink negligee, that Sark had provided me with sine I didn't have anything to sleep in. I ran a hand through my hair as I climbed off the bed to go investigate what was inside the drawers when I landed with a graceless thud on the ground, skidding to the dresser. I threw my arms in front of my face to prevent my face from colliding with the dresser as I hit the dresser.
"Ow." I complained, reaching my hands out onto the ground to help pull myself up as the room was stilling spinning from my view point. It stopped after awhile and as I was about to pull myself up I felt something. I retracted my hand to my body before I extended in again in curiosity. Beneath the dresser was dusty and had cobwebs. I clasped my hand around the item, pulling it out from under the dresser. It was some kind of rectangle thingy. I brushed off the cobwebs off the cold surface and discovered that it was a picture frame with a picture in it. My mouth dropped in shock as I looked over the picture. It was obviously an old picture since the edge of the picture were brown. In the picture was a smiling boy and girl. The boy was taller than the girl and a blonde too. The girl was also blonde, but unlike the boy who had blue eyes the girl had beautiful emerald green eyes. The boy appeared to be about 11 maybe and the girl 7. The girl was leaning back on the boy in a blue dress. The top of the dress was frilly and had skinny straps that went on her shoulders. The dress ended at a little below her ankles where she wore what looked like little platforms. The boy wore some kinds of little suit. Even though they were posing for the picture, the boy looked more taken up on catching the girl, than smiling for a picture. I took the picture and placed it on the dresser, brushing my hands off. I decided that after I had brushed my teeth, taken a bath and changed into some clothes that Sark had acquired for me, that I would inquire about the boy and girl.
An hour later
---Sark's POV---
I sat drinking coffee in the kitchen. I was regretting ever bringing Sydney here. Is this what caused what Miss Bridget saw I my future? I asked myself, if it was, I'd rather have Sydney go back to the CIA. Although that would be interesting, she didn't deserve that future. I wanted to talk to her about it, but Miss Bridget had warned me about how things like that could have a bad affect on the future.
"But could it be worse than what's gonna happen?" I asked out loud subconsciously.
"Worse than what?" Sydney asked, entering the kitchen. She was dressed in jeans and a shirt which was covered up by a leather jacket which I had picked out. She had insisted on looking around, but that was the only jacket that store carried and we had to stay out of sight.
"Nothing." I lied, sipping the coffee. The kitchen, like most of the house was bare. There was a stove, 2 refrigerators, a glass table, 4 chairs, cabinets, a microwave, and a few counters. I sat in one of the wooden, yet sturdy chairs and Sydney occupied another. Speaking of which, she looked as if she were in deep thought.
"Hey Sark, do you have a radio I could listen to while I'm here?" she asked.
"Yeah, I have one, you could borrow it." I answered, glumly.
"That's not what I wanted to ask, but I'd still like to borrow it." Sydney started. "you wouldn't happen to know… about… about this…" she placed a picture on the table and I stared at it, my eyes enlarging slightly at the sight of it.
"Sydney, people stayed in this house before you, they probably lost it." I tried to reason, staring at the picture.
"If they did, how come there was dust on the spot where the picture lay. It doesn't make sense, how could someone have lost in under the dresser? You know, the more I look at the little boy… I see someone in him." she started. She searched my eyes for some hint of recollection in which I gave her none. "Sark… are you that little boy?"
I sat there quite for a moment before answering. "No, what would make you think that?"
"Did something happen to the little girl Sark?" she persisted. "Who is she?"
I closed my eyes briefly.
flashback
"Red rover, red rover, bring Julian right over!" a little girl yelled.
Suddenly a little boy came charging at the girl's arm which was linked with another boy. The girl laughed as the boy attempted to push through the link.
end flashback
"Sark" she started, briefly running a hand through my hair, "please, you know I know what it's like to lose somebody you love."
I stared down at the table, suddenly finding it interesting. I licked my lips before I stared up at her again, tears filling my eyes before I blinked them back. "Her names was Faith. She… she was my sister. It's why I hate my father so much. I didn't know at the time, but mum did. He was in debt to Irina, and as you know she does not let those debts go by unpaid. He was scared ,he didn't want to become a traitor to his country, so, so, he, he made an offer to Irina. He told her about a son he had and how he was a quick learner. He promised that he would make a good lackey for her alliance. So, Irina began researching about his family and true to his word, he had a living son. One night, one night they came for me, and that night, they must have gotten something wrong, because, because I awoke to the sound of her screaming. And then the sound of a gunshot and the screaming stopped. I ran to her room to go see what had happened, but, before I got there, these men took me, and I tried to get away, but I couldn't, I, I… when they trained me the guards used to taunt me about my sister's screaming… about how she had went down easily. It was easy, they bragged ,to dispose of the evidence, because she was hardly anything to make a fuss over. They never said anything about mum, not once. I would do anything to go back to that night and warn her, she didn't deserve my fate." By now, Sydney had worked her way over to my side of the table, attempting to comfort me.
"Don't touch me!" I yelled, pulling her off me. "I was her older brother! I was supposed to protect her! I wasn't supposed to let her go down without a fight! I should have been there… I should have been there… I should have…" I trailed off in a slight trance as that night ran through my mind. "Irina, she would, when people weren't watching she would, she would try to heal my wounds that I obtained during training and more than once, I, I spotted her staring at this picture, the picture had a little girl in it and a man, most likely the girl's father. It wasn't long before I realized that this had to have been her daughter. Before that, I used to, I used to despise her, thinking, how could she just come and break up my family like that? But it wasn't her decision, it had been my father' choice. And for that I despised him, I watched as Irina cried at night, holding that picture, when she thought people weren't watching, I pitied her. Over the years I began to think of her as a step-mother. And I swore she though of me as a son. So, I decided one night that if I found her daughter and reunited them that she would reunite me and my family. I brought the idea to her one day and she told me that it would never happen. I worked for her now, and if I were reunited with my family it would only hurt them because people would go after them. And she told me to drop the subject of my family and never bring it up again."
---Sydney's POV---
I sat in Sark's lap, running my hand through his hair, as I murmured in his ear that it would be all right. Sark was just like me, he knew how it felt to have your family destroyed over this whole espionage business and have the people you loved die; how it felt to be betrayed by the people you thought you could trust. Although what he went through was terrible, it felt great to know you had someone who you could relate to what you had went through. I pulled his head back so he was staring into my eyes.
"I'll help you get through this, and if your family is still alive, we'll find them, I promise on Danny's grave we'll find them. Now, you're going to get the radio and I'm going to let you listen to some songs, bands, and singers, that will have you feeling great in no time. Like Outkast." I started, getting off his lap.
"Whose Outkast?" Sark asked.
I turned around to face him with a shocked expression on my face. "You don't know who Outkast is? Wow, we have a lot to work on then. Let's go."
---Unknown POV---
I stood there, staring at the picture of the boy and girl in the fancy clothes intently.
"Angelina. We have to get going." a man persisted.
I stared at him before glancing back at the picture. I tucked in away on my suitcase before I adjusted my miniskirt, closed the suitcase and headed after the guy.
A/N: Comment? No review, no update; as simple as that. As I promised fluff and smut coming either next chapter or the chapter after that, promise. This was just a transition chapter.
