AN: Music for this chapter (on repeat): A Small Measure of Peace by Hans Zimmer from The Last Samurai Soundtrack.
FORTY
o
Sark had been sitting, tucked away in Jack Bristow's office for the better part of the day going over every piece of intel and information they'd acquired on Sloane, Zamir, and Cuvee over the last year he'd been in custody with Analysts and Agents bringing in stacks of folders, and boxes of Intel. So far, he hadn't seen anything that the CIA or Irina may have missed.
Irina had dropped by numerous times to check in with him and even Jack but Sydney had stayed away, only making brief eye contact before averting her eyes and moving out of his line of sight. He sighed, putting down another file of useless Intel and picked up the next in the box. His eyes narrowed in curiosity reading its label.
'Derevko, Irina. Kashmir Imprisonment 1981-1983' The subtitle read, 'Face recognition copy 113'
None of this made any sense. Obviously the file was mixed in by accident? Or miss label, he wouldn't put it past the CIA but his mind couldn't get past Irina's name and supposed imprisonment in Kashmir for 2 years.
In the seventeen years he'd known her, she'd never once mentioned being a prisoner anywhere and certainly not in Kashmir. He'd set up the nuclear plan with Cuvee in Kashmir, the KGBs' former gulag where the held and interrogated suspected traitors.
Sark's brain rewound and sped up again 'KGB, interrogated suspected traitors.' He couldn't swallow the massive dry lump in his throat. Irina imprisoned for treason? That couldn't be right. It had to be wrong, if it were true, why would she go back there for the nukes? None of this was making sense. He flipped open the file and retrieved the disk shrouded with fat, stamped red words reading 'Confidential,' 'Authorized Eyes Only,' and 'Classified.'
Wasn't everything in the CIA stamped with these ridiculous warnings? Now, he was only more determined to see what was on this disk. He slid the disk into DVD drive of Jack's computer and waited for it to boot up, sitting back against the comfy leather chair.
*A Small Measure of Peace*
The sounds of the old Soviet anthem filled the office and Sark scrambled to turn down the volume. He saw the earphones lying beside the monitor and plugged them in. The last thing he wanted was for someone to hear it and come in to see he was watching something he shouldn't. His heart stopped in his chest as they drug a beaten woman, he knew as Irina, up the aisle of the prison in Kashmir.
'She had been a prisoner.' He could barely breathe as Gerard Cuvee circled her like a vulture, enjoying the show. None of this was making any sense. How could she work with a man whom had her imprisoned, tortured and beaten? He watched with rapt fascination, unable to tear his eyes away as he listened to her crimes being spat at her. Her crime had been she'd fallen in love with the enemy, had his child and then refused to return to Russia, killing Jack and returning with Sydney. Sark couldn't believe what he was hearing or seeing as they tortured Irina.
"She was pregnant!" He gasped quietly to no one but himself and felt tears stinging his eyes as he watched Cuvee beat the child inside her to death and then ordered his guards to keep kicking until he was sure that the 'bastard spawn' was gone. He felt the bile rising in his throat and the cotton taste in his mouth signaling he was about to vomit as he watched them host her up on to the cross, bleeding and unconscious as the prison went wild; her blood dripping onto the faces of Jack and Sydney. He kept burping into his mouth but refused to let himself vomit.
The blood-curdling scream from Irina as they prepared to rape her echoed non-stop in his ears as he watched one man after another ravage her limp body on her birthday. It seemed to go on forever and he didn't think he could take anymore. He was about to switch it off when it ended and it flashed to more torture sessions, more rape and then finally showing them dragging a very bloody and beaten unconscious Irina into solitary.
Sark couldn't stop the tears that had slipped from his eyes when he saw her emerge almost a year later looking like the walking dead. There was nothing left of her, not her body, not her feisty spirit, nothing in her eyes.
'This is why she had nothing left inside of her to give to me.' He realized now, how the loving mother in Sydney's photos had become the emotionless 'Man' he knew. Irina had been scared to love him; scared to show him, because she couldn't bare to go through the pain of losing someone else she'd loved.
The debriefing with Cuvee and Kasanau had shown the Irina Derevko he grew up knowing. They'd broken her and taken everything she had. Rebuilt her into the machine they wanted, the machine that would become 'The Man.'
He watched in horror as they murdered her mother, a woman who had already survived one assassination in her life, for her daughters' refusal to leave her American family and return to Russia. Her mother's heartbreaking last words to Irina ringing in his ears as they threatened to kill Sydney next. The screen went black and the DVD ejected and Sark sat there with his face pale as he put the disk back into the file.
The overwhelming sense to vomit taking over and he flew from his seat and out the door, running to the bathroom as everyone stopped to stare until he disappeared behind the doors. Throwing open a stall door and retching violently into the toilet again and again until his stomach was completely empty. Irina was essentially his mother and he had worked with the man responsible for the atrocities he'd just seen against her. His own father, her cousin, had made a deal this man. Now he knew why, she wanted to hunt down Cuvee. There would be no mercy for the man if he found him first. Sark had been in such a hurry he hadn't noticed Marshall and Weiss were in the bathroom, too.
Weiss and Marshall had spent the last minute poking each other with their fingers having a screaming fight without words about who was going to ask Sark. It was finally decided by Rock, Paper, Scissors. Weiss had lost.
"You all right in there?" Weiss coughed, trying to not care but the man sounded like he'd heaved up his lungs.
"Fantastic." Sark replied sarcastically as he wiped the corners of his mouth with toilet paper and stood on wobbly legs.
"Oh you don't look so good." Marshall cringed, curling away from Sark who looked gray and green in color. "Do you have the flu or something?"
"Yes. Something." Sark was annoyed that he was heard retching in the CIA's bathroom.
"Oh well, don't be embarrassed about getting sick at work I mean, we, " Marshall waggled two fingers between himself and Weiss, looking at Sark in the mirror, "We both, and I guess Sydney too, retched our guts after watching the vid-Hmmph!" Weiss elbowed him hard, stopping any further reveal when he saw Sark's eyebrows raise with interest.
"Watching what, Marshall?" He turned to them adjusting his sling with a menacing stare that could make the little man sweat. He already knew what the man was going to say if not just the two of them, but also Sydney had gotten physically ill from watching it.
"Ahhhh, nothing." He finally spit out, holding his side in pain.
"It's Classified." Weiss tried to sound official, "For Authorized Personal Only."
"I see." Sark shifted his weight on his heels, "Tell me, does this video for APO having anything to do with Kashmir perhaps?" And there it was the immediate panic in both of their eyes.
"You…you, you know about that? Right? I mean why wouldn't you know about that if Irina raised you for the last two decades." Marshall spit out in rapid fire as felt himself getting queasy. "And then of course that last trip to Kashmir with the Bristows and the Empress and the nukes…which was all a ploy you were a part of," He pointed with narrowed eyebrows at Sark, "And planned but…if you knew about what happened there…why would you pick that place of all places? I mean talk about torture…that must have been so painful for her to be back there and with that sick bastard Cuvee? Why, why, why would you do that to her?" He saw Sark's face fall, "Unless you didn't know what happened to her there? Oh boy, I am going to shut up now."
"No, I didn't know about her imprisonment there until just recently." Sark lied by omission. "I would have never set it up for the nukes to be delivered there had I of known. Cuvee suggested it so I went along, with the suggestion."
"All this time you've known her and you just recently learned about it? That doesn't make any sense," Weiss crossed his arms, getting angry, "You were in prison until yesterday when Irina sprung you so how could you have learned recently?"
"Because," He replied forcefully, then pulled in his anger, "Agent Weiss, I just found the file and watched the horrifying films on a DVD in Jack Bristow's office. It was included in the Intel about Cuvee, Sloane, and Zamir…though it must have been a mistake. I doubt highly, Irina would let that be seen by just anyone." Sark fumed and then stilled thinking about the horrendous images fleeting through his mind.
"No wonder you're sick." Marshall gave him a lopsided smile. "She's kind of like your mom, huh?" Sark's eyes flashed to his with a pained look and wave of sadness.
"And Irina wasn't too happy when she found out that people had seen it," Weiss swallowed hard, remembering the day she finally lost it, beat the shit out of them and broke into sobs. "She had never seen the films, she didn't need to. She lived through the nightmare…but when she discovered that we'd seen it, she demanded to watch it. She locked herself in Jack's office, watched it and then went to the gym where she went crazy, like insanely crazy and beat the shit out of Mike, and I, Marshall by accident," He gave a nod to the small man beside him wearing a frown of sadness and nodding, "Stopping just short of killing us and then collapsed onto the floor in wracking sobs." He paused, watching Sark's reaction, having believed the man to be heartless, much like he had of Irina at first, now seeing a torrent of emotions running across his ashen face. "She hadn't addressed it for twenty years, just buried it inside her and on that day…it came exploding out. Jack, and Sydney and the baby just held her…it was just… heartbreaking. We went to the hospital," He shared a small smile with Sark at Irina's physical capabilities, "And they went home and talked. Irina told them what had happened to her off camera. Syd came over later a complete wreck." His eyes found Sark's, "What was on those films was only the beginning." He swallowed the bile he felt rising in his own throat. "The most vile…and wicked…and pure satanic acts were done to her by Cuvee himself…in his own private time with her." He didn't want or need to elaborate; he could see by Sark's reaction he knew what that probably entailed. "I know what you must be thinking…now multiply it by a thousand and you may get close to the horror of what happened to her off camera."
Sark's eyes widened and flushed with unshed tears, shocking Marshall and Weiss beyond belief.
"She has no idea we know about that, so please-" Weiss didn't want to ask this man for anything but he couldn't stand to see the look in Irina's eyes again if she knew that part of the secret was out as well.
"I won't say a word and I'll have to ask that you gentlemen afford me the same courtesy." Sark blinked back his tears and managed to keep them at bay, "She kept it from me for almost twenty years. I can't imagine she'd be thrilled to learn I found out because of a filing mistake on the part of the CIA. If Irina is ready to tell me, she will if not, I am not going to force her into a confrontation she isn't ready for. Especially not now, seeing her happier then I ever have in my life. She's asked me to help her find these men who violated her and I will do everything I can to make sure they die slow and painful deaths for what they have done to my mother." He'd been speaking without thinking and when it finally dawned on him what he had called her, it didn't feel right to disrespect the feeling by making it less then it was, so he'd said it. He thought of Irina Derevko as his mother and just proclaimed it to two CIA agents in a bathroom.
Weiss and Marshall didn't add any snarky comment to Sark's declaration for his 'mother.' They were in no position to judge the relationship of Sark and Irina.
"I think everyone here has that same opinion. That, those men, must die slow and painful deaths for what they've done to her. I think the line for those who want a crack at them is about a mile long now with Irina leading the way. She's been training like a Soviet Olympian in anticipation for this battle and we're all doing everything we can to catch these bastards."
"Hopefully, it will all be over before the Coronation so she can start a new life without worrying about them." Marshall smiled shyly.
"Coronation?" Sark looked at the nervous man again.
"You don't know?" Weiss laughed, not sure if Sark was kidding or not…Not sure if Sark knew how to kid.
"I haven't the faintest idea about what you're talking about." Sark looked at the expectantly.
"Your 'mother' is going to be crowned the official ruler of Imperial Russia in May." Weiss watched as Sark's face went pale again. "Irina didn't tell you that you're going to be an official Grand Duke of Imperial Russia?"
"No, she forgot to mention that." Sark shook his head, as a small smile crept across his features. "Small oversight on her part I'm sure, as I've only been out of custody for 24hours now." His smile faded again and his eyes moved the small gray tiles of the floor. "I don't know how I am going to be able to look at her the same way again."
"You won't." Weiss answered softy, speaking from his own experience. "None of us do. We finally saw the person behind the name and realized that what we all saw, is part of what made her who she is." He paused when Sark refused to look up, concentrating intensely on the floor as he listened. "She became more then just Irina Derevko, the enemy…We were able to see the loving wife…and mother inside her. The person inside that Teflon shell." He smiled softly thinking about Irina and saw the corners of Sark's mouth twitching to smile as well. "That was only amplified when we saw her pregnant and give birth…When we all watched her die and fight her way back to life…you can't look at someone the same way again after you've witnessed these things." Weiss unfolded his arms and shoved his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight. "The more time we spend with her... the more we love her. It can't be helped." His smile widened when Sark's eyes finally lifted and met his with a small smile. "You'll see, you're living with them after all."
"I've already begun to see this side of Irina. It's just conflicting because, she is the same person I've always known and yet she isn't." Sark added softly, thinking about the woman he'd seen the last two days.
"I'd probably say that Sydney would be the best one to talk to about that. She went from knowing her mother as Laura Bristow the loving English Professor to Irina Derevko KGB spy and 'the Man' before finally coming back to seeing Irina as the mother she's always loved with just more to her. But considering your history with her," Weiss's eyes narrowed again in defense of his friend and the pain caused by Sark when he killed Francie, "I don't think that'd be a good idea. Perhaps Jack?"
"No, that will be quite unnecessary. I don't need to talk to anyone about it." Sark stood up straight, looking into the mirror and adjusting his tie trying to push down any emotion he was feeling.
"Ok." Weiss shrugged, seeing the deflection for what it was.
The door to the bathroom opened and they all jumped slightly.
"What are you guys having a Girl Scout meeting in here?" Vaughn looked at the three in front of him, sizing up Sark and Sydney's repercussions, having last seen the man face to face when they arrested him in Sweden.
"Not without our leader, Agent Vaughn, though I'd say you lose your merit badge for lavatory humor." Sark looked at with his steely blue eyes replying in an even tone that unnerved Vaughn.
"You're looking a little pale, Sark; life on the outside proving to be too much for you?" Vaughn returned the intense gaze.
"Gentlemen, it's been a pleasure." Sark responded sarcastically and stepped around Vaughn, exiting the door. He turned the corner heading back for the privacy of Jack's office when he ran smack into the one person he wanted to avoid.
"Julian," Irina's face, flashed with concern, "You look pale, are you feeling alright? Jack said he saw you tear out of his office and into the bathroom."
"Fine. I think I may have a touch of the flu is all." He avoided looking into her eyes at all cost, the floor, the wall, her earrings… anything but into those dark eyes.
Irina's eyes narrowed. Sark was not one to get sick, they were alike in that way. She could count on one hand the times he had fallen ill in his twenty-three years of life.
"We're getting ready to leave. Jack and I are bringing home some things to go over later tonight. We'll leave as soon as he's finished getting the files from his office."
Sark's eyes darted to hers' briefly in a moment of panic before quickly looking away. Irina's file was still sitting on Jack's desk. She studied him carefully, he was avoiding eye contact and was fidgeting, his complexion wasn't getting any better.
Sark had never been 'more happy' to wear the dark hood that covered his head as they left the CIA complex. Sure, he couldn't see anything but at least they couldn't see him. He knew Irina was studying his behavior intently.
When they got 'home' Sark excused himself to his room the moment they were in the door and hadn't come down since.
"Jack, something happened today." Irina twirled her ring on her finger with her thumb as they sat on the couch, her eyes toward the stairs. "His behavior is just…odd."
"My Love…Sark is odd." Jack deadpanned seriously before cracking a smile when she rolled her eyes. "He wasn't feeling well, I'm sure that's what is causing this peculiar behavior."
"You know something." Irina leaned forward, studying him carefully; his eyebrow had twitched when he said that. A telltale sign he was either lying or wasn't telling her all he new.
"Irina, I don't know anything more then you." He put down the file he was reading. Jack did of course but he wasn't certain.
"I'm going to go talk to him." Irina made a move to stand but Jack held her arm.
"I'll go." Jack stood watching her surprise,"If he's retching his guts out again, the last thing the man is going to want is you standing 'Mother-Hen' like over him." He smiled and kissed her quickly before making his exit, leaving Irina sitting in stunned silence. Something was definitely going on.
Sark had been sitting on the edge of the bed, looking out the window for quite sometime, completely lost in thought when he heard the knocking on his door.
He sat up straight, preparing himself for Irina and called out, "Come in." He was certainly surprised to see Jack Bristow standing before him in jeans and a lightweight, dark grey sweater. He had imagined the only clothes the man wore were suits.
His anxiety came rushing back when he watched Jack close the door and lean against it, blocking any exit. Jack's intense gaze as unsettling as Irina's. The look on his face told him he 'knew' what Sark had been watching in his office.
Jack regarded Sark carefully, watching every eye movement, every twitch, every breath trying to decide what Sark knew and didn't about Kashmir.
"You didn't know did you."
It was a rhetorical question and Sark knew it. He remained silent and turned his head back to gaze out the window.
Jack couldn't help but feel a strange twinge of compassion for the blue-eyed blonde sitting on the bed. He looked absolutely devastated and guilty. For that he wasn't sure why.
"Irina never told you anything about that time in her life, did she?" Jack remained standing by the door, speaking in soft tones. Sark dipped his head to stare at the hand in his sling before looking back out the window at the hummingbirds eating out of a small feeder. Jack had his answer. "She didn't tell any of us." Jack sighed, running his hand over his face as if trying to wash away the images assaulting his brain. "We found the footage of what happened to her just after Moscow in a KGB file that Sydney stole from Cuvee's office on your Intel. I didn't even know she went to prison for treason until we went to Kashmir; to steal the guidance chips."
Sark's head turned back to stare at Jack with rapt attention, waiting for him to explain.
"I thought she'd been an officer there. I wasn't going to let her out of my sight. I kept pushing her and finally her wall began to crack. She admitted to Sydney and I standing inside that prison," He paused, remembering the look on Irina's face, the unshed tears. "That she wasn't an officer but a prisoner; that's how she knew the landmine locations, the sewer tunnel access; because she had tried to escape from there once before. I didn't know if she was lying or not, but the look on her face…the unshed tears…she was losing control. I knew for that to happen, she was telling the truth about being a prisoner."
Sark felt like he'd been punched in the gut. 'Why? Why? Why? Had he listened to Cuvee and made Irina go back there?'
Jack saw the flash of pain and remembered Sark's part in the Kashmir mission.
"You didn't even know she was a prisoner there, did you?"
Sark was still a moment, looking back out the window before shaking his head 'no,' he hadn't known.
"I knew nothing of that." He felt the tears welling in his eyes and he kept his focus on the green and red hummingbird, flapping its wings at the speed in which his heart was beating. "I never would have arranged for the Rambaldi artifact to be opened there had I known…known what happened to her there." He swallowed the dry lump in his throat with great effort. "I know you probably don't want to hear this but Irina is the closest thing to a mother, I've ever known." He paused, thinking about it, staring at the small bird circle the plastic feeder.
Sark suddenly seemed so young, so small to Jack, sitting there on the edge of the bed.
"What that hideous monster did to her…I can't stop the images from racing in my mind. I keep hearing her screams." Sark's voice caught and he sucked in a sharp breath, furiously blinking back tears. "It makes me sick. I don't know how I can face her again, especially after I'm the one responsible for sending her back there."
Jack saw the fragileness of a little boy in the man in front of him and he was reminded of Sydney. How she had reacted to seeing what had happened to Irina, to her mother. The guilt Sydney felt over blackmailing her into going back to Kashmir.
"Sydney," Jack began thinking of what to say to him, "Felt the same way you do now after we watched those films, saw what had happened to Irina there. She felt guilty." Jack paused watching Sark's reflection in the glass, "Because she had been the one that blackmailed Irina into going back there. Her guilt was unfounded as is yours." He saw the shiny tear that fell from Sark's eye, "Neither of you knew what had happened to Irina in that hell-hole. She doesn't blame Sydney and she doesn't blame you. She's downstairs worried about you right now. She knows something is not right."
"I just don't know what to say to her. I don't know how I can look at her and not keep seeing what happened to her." Sark replied barely above a whisper. "How do you do it? How does Sydney?"
"Because when we look at her, into those big brown eyes, we see that she is more then the violent acts committed against her." Jack sighed and refolded his arms. "They are a part of what made Irina who she is now. She is still the same woman, that she was before you saw those files. You've just gained some insight and understanding into 'how' she became who she is."
Sark remained quiet and watched as the tiny bird flew away thinking about what Jack had said.
"Her imprisonment is common knowledge now, no details…just the facts. It's been all over the press with Irina's recent celebrity." Jack realized that Sark new nothing of this because he'd been in prison. He also realized, that the young man knew nothing about Irina's life before her release from Kashmir. Right now, the world knew more about her than Julian Sark. "We've kept a copy of all the magazines about Irina's life before you knew her." Jack relaxed his arms and turned, stopping with his hand on the door. "I'll bring them in for you to read. Give you a little more insight into her life."
"Thank you." Sark said softly, turning to meet his eyes, "Are you going to tell Irina that I saw the files?"He swallowed nervously as Jack looked him over.
"No." Jack replied sharply in a very fatherly tone, "You are." Seeing Sark's flash of anger and panic he added, "If she finds out you saw them, and didn't tell her. She will get upset. She doesn't want people to coddle her. You know Irina," He smiled softly, "She demands honesty."
Sark smiled softly and chuckled realizing that was certainly true.
"But if she asks me out-right I'm not going to lie to her," Jack looked at him with serious eyes, "Tell her the truth and don't be afraid of it. Irina's strong. She won't shatter into a million pieces." Jack's tone was soft and honest. "I'll get the magazines for you."
"Jack…" Sark called out suddenly and Jack turned to face him, "I'm going to do everything I can to help find Gerard Cuvee… and make him suffer."
Jack nodded in acknowledgement, and agreement before he opened the door and left.
Jack found Irina in the kitchen a few minutes later pouring a cup of tea with a look of concentration on her face.
"Is he ok?"Her eyes darted to his immediately. Motherly worry easily transferring to Sark now.
"Yes. He's ok. A little overwhelmed I think." Jack found her face gently with his hands and tilted it up, dropping a soft kiss to her lips. "He's upstairs right now, lying down and reading all of the magazines, catching up with the rest of the world." He smiled softly, wrapping his arms around her. Needing to hold her, feel her close after being reminded of what she'd gone through and survived. "What do you want to do for dinner?" Jack asked quickly, hoping to direct her away from more questions about Sark.
"I made Stroganoff while you were upstairs with Julian," Her eyes penetrated his searching, "You were up there a long time. What did you talk about?"
'Damn! This woman and her ability to stay on track when she wants something.'
"You. What else would we have to talk about?" Jack smiled, kissing her again, hoping to make her lose that serious face.
"You're trying to steal my move." Irina knew he was holding back and it was driving her crazy.
"What?" Jack laughed looking at her strangely, having no idea what she was talking about.
"The kiss and deflect." She raised her eyebrows in her lecturing tone, challenging him to argue and Jack broke into a laugh, realizing she was right. "What about me? Jack, what are you keeping from me?" Her tone was tinged with hurt and the look in her eyes was killing Jack.
Lying and keeping secrets was no-way to start over, even with the best of intentions. He sighed, and his hands went to her hips lifting her suddenly and setting her on the island counter, snuggling himself between her legs and wrapping his arms around her waist.
Irina's heart began beating rapidly, and her breathing picked up with the unease she felt come over her. The look in Jack's eyes and his reluctance to talk; the way he just picked her up and put her on the counter. The way he was holding her, was the same thing he used to do when they were married and he was about to tell her something she didn't want to hear; usually that he was leaving for months on dangerous missions.
Jack didn't speak, just stared at the scar from her heart surgery exposed at her collar. He had never brought up Kashmir to her after the day she told them everything. They'd talked about it, but only when she approached the subject.
Leaving it up to Irina to set her own pace in this healing process, giving her back control over the situation where it had been taken from her in Kashmir. By letting her talk about what happened to her when 'she' wanted to, it was slowly empowering Irina by letting her control it, instead of it controlling her. Jack didn't want to cause her to backslide by blindsiding her bringing it up; taking the control away from her again.
Irina had a raw nagging feeling in her stomach, seeing his reluctance. She tipped his face to hers with her fingers under his chin and when her dark orbs held his she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, bringing him closer.
"Jack…just tell me. Please?" Her begging for honesty.
"Irina," He sighed, looking into her dark eyes knowing they were going to be filling with tears shortly, "He saw the Kashmir footage today." He watched her small sharp intake of breath and then as he knew they would the tears started to pool.
"Why?" She asked barely above a whispered, desperation in her voice. 'Well that explained a lot. Why he was sick, why he was pale, why he wouldn't look at her…'
"It was unintentional. He found the file when he was going through the Intel on Cuvee." He spoke softly as he wrapped his arms around her hips, looking up into those big brown eyes. "He just wasn't prepared for it. There is no way to prepare for something like that." His hands holding her tightly, "His reaction was the same as Sydney's and he feels guilty for making you go back there with the opening of the Rambaldi artifact."
"He didn't know." Her voice answered in the same whisper as she hiccupped for breath and the tears spilt over.
"I know," His hand ran over the side of her head, smoothing her hair. "I told him that but he loves you, Irina…and it hurts to find out someone you love was in pain and you can't do anything about it now. "
Irina inhaled a shaky breath, wiping the tears with the back of her hand.
"Is he ok?" She asked.
Jack smiled softly, 'always concerned for others before herself.'
"Yeah, he'll be ok It's just a lot to process and absorb." He used his thumb to wipe another fallen tear, "Sydney and I didn't sleep at all that night, the day we watched them. We sat on the porch swing and talked until the sun came up."
"You did?" She hiccupped, generally surprised.
"Yeah we did." He smiled and kissed her palm. "Sydney was determined to remember the last thing you said to her was before your extraction. She went straight for Psych and had them do memory regression." He watched Irina's eyes widen as she sniffled. "She remembered…she remembered everything. The day your handler came to the house and you sent her upstairs…she remembered your 'Goodbye,' and that you loved her with everything you had."
Irina's tears started flowing again and Jack's eyes got blurry.
"To the moon and back more then the stars in the heavens and the grains of sand on Earth…"
"Forever and always." Irina finished in a whisper, thinking about that day.
"Yes." Jack blinked back his tears, "We sat out there, on our swing and Sydney and I finally realized 'Laura was always Irina, and Irina was always Laura.' Sydney realized, that you were always her mother." He added softly, wiping her steady stream of tears.
Irina reached forward and pulled Jack to her, wrapping her arms around him and allowed herself to cry softly into his neck, something she hadn't done in awhile; Jack's arms wrapped securely around her back, holding her to him.
Sark had emerged from his room and walked slowly down the hall when he heard the sound of soft crying coming from downstairs.
As he neared the top of the staircase, he could see into the kitchen. Irina was sitting on the kitchen island and Jack was standing in front of her, their arms wrapped around each other and Irina was crying softly into Jack's neck, her face turned away from Sark in his profile view of them through the doorway.
'She knew. Jack must have told her.' Sark felt tears coming to his eyes that he had made her cry by learning the truth. He'd never seen her cry, ever. The first day he ever saw her with tears was that day when she was pregnant and they were both CIA prisoners. He'd seen the tears again yesterday but he'd never seen her cry. He couldn't bare the thought and he couldn't bare the sight…his own tears began to fall and he began walking quietly back to his room. He heard a soft squeaking noise as he walked past Jack and Irina's bedroom door. It was open so he looked inside, spotting the bassinet and the baby inside. He cautiously walked over to stand beside it and looked down at the sleeping baby who was moving around in her dreams.
She looked so small, so perfect, so beautiful and his heart clenched as images of Cuvee beating the baby out of Irina flashed through his mind. He reached out hesitantly and brushed the backs of his fingers over her dark hair, amazed at how soft it was. A small smile coming to his face before the frown as he thought about the baby Irina lost…the missing Bristow child. Lena had dropped her pacifier and was nuzzling for it with her eyes closed. Sark saw her intent and picked it up, pressed it lightly to her lips and she opened and started sucking on it immediately. The bounce in the little plastic appeaser as her tongue sucked feverishly amusing to Sark and bringing another smile to his face before he left the room.
Irina took a deep breath standing in front of the closed door in front of her ten minutes later. She raised her fist and rapt softly on the door with her knuckles.
Sark was lying back against the headboard on his bed, reading the details of the Bristows' last day together in Newsweek when he heard the soft knocking.
Knocking too soft to be Jack's and he braced himself for Irina.
"Come in." He called softly, swallowing hard when Irina appeared in front of him.
The only evidence she'd been crying, the slightly puffy eyes. She was wearing jeans and white baseball undershirt with blue 3/4 length sleeves; attire Sark was still not used to seeing on her. It was so…domestic. Real people wore these kinds of clothes. Not leaders of international syndicates.
"Julian." She smiled softly and closed the door then walking to the side of the bed he was closest to and sat on its edge, tucking one leg under the other and putting her hair behind her ear before she looked up at him. "Jack told me you saw the Kashmir files today." She remained composed, biting her lip as she waited for his response.
He slowly set the magazine down in his lap, closing it, he nodded, still unable to look her in the eye.
"Please don't be mad at Jack, he didn't want to tell me. I made him." She smiled and let out a small breath of a chuckle, amused at her persuasiveness.
He remained silent, staring at her picture on the magazine in front of him. The same age, the same face, the same year that she had been imprisoned in Kashmir.
"I'm not upset with you, Julian and I don't blame you at all…for choosing Kashmir as the site for the nuke drop. You didn't know." She reached forward and took his hand, squeezing his fingers in her own. When he still wouldn't look at her she raised his chin with her other hand. "It's ok." She gave him a small smile as her brown eyes pierced his blue and saw them pooling.
"Irina, I'm…sorry." He finally choked out.
"Don't be." She smiled warmly, "You have nothing to be sorry for."
"I can see now why you couldn't…Why you weren't able to…show love for anyone after that. Couldn't stand to lose anyone you loved again." Sark squeezed her soft fingers in return and Irina's eyes broke contact as she inhaled sharply for a long time, trying to control her emotions. "You'd lost so much. Your mother… your husband…your daughter…your baby-"
Irina turned her head at a sharp angle when he mentioned the baby, looking out the window and breathing quickly as fresh tears sprung to her eyes.
Sark flinched seeing he was making her cry again, not what he intended.
"Irina, I'm sorry. " Irina shook her head 'no' softly it wasn't his fault her emotions were on overload at the moment. "It's ok." She croaked out turning back to him, with a small smile and blurry eyes. "Are you ok?" She had won the battle with the tears and they were dissipating.
Sark finally smiled, seeing his 'Irina' in her eyes, that enchanting sparkle, her resilience and ability to bounce back quickly. He leaned forward and pulled her to him with his good arm. Irina smiled as she wrapped her arms around him. They didn't say anything, they didn't need to; they just held each other in silence for a moment.
"Are you hungry?" Irina asked smiling when she pulled back, remaining where she sat as her eyes glanced over the multiple magazines her face adorned spread over the bed.
"I supposed I could eat." He smiled back, following her eyes to the magazines. "You have quite the fascinating life, Irina." He laughed softly seeing her eyebrows rise and shrug. "You are getting remarried?" He asked with his own raised eyebrows picking up a magazine that had mentioned that detail.
"Yes," Irina laughed softly. "This weekend actually. I hope you don't mind spending a few days Santa Barbara." She turned her smile to his face, light dancing in her eyes.