Note: This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of "Ringer." The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the WB, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of said work. The author shall not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site.
Season 1 Episode 23 Part 5
"Denouement"
Gently on the waves, the dingy bobbled - rocking the sole passenger on-board lovingly - as the mother sea to a baby in a cradle. And it was fitting as this was where it all began after all.
The single occupant lay prone, reclining in a blissful sleep, as real of a sleeping beauty as in any fairytale. Golden ringlets of hair crowned her scalp and curled beneath her immaculate angelic face. Wrapped in a warm silken pashmina, pulled tight around a slightly darkened neck. A long grey cashmere overcoat blanketing the rest of her body. Large brown tinted sunglasses shading her eyes from the rays of the bright sun, keeping her in her reverie. Dreaming of unknown riches and luxuries to which she undoubtedly were entitled and belonged to. Caviar. Fifth Avenue. Penthouses. So peaceful in her slumber. It was almost as if she couldn't be wakened.
Faintly the aroma of seawater and seaweed waft into the raft. The smell was not unpleasant but misplaced in her indulgent repose. She was pulled to consciousness not by the kiss of a prince but the taste of salt on her lips.
"My throat," she managed to mutter as she pulled herself upright. Her owl lenses falling to the side, as she forced herself up right. Her voice felt strained and sore. With one hand she touched her bruised neck and felt the tender flesh inflame underneath.
Unhappily, the boat rocked. Mother sea had become as turbulent and unsettled as the passenger.
Gripping the railing of her leather cushioned seat harshly, so that her nails dug into the skin, she looked across the horizon only to see a wall of never ending blue hues. The dark waves reached out as far as infinity, meeting the lighter blue sky in an endless distance.
Wildly, her eyes recognized her surroundings. It was the very same boat she had taken a ride with her sister on, months earlier. The very same boat, she had planned her fake suicide on for her sister to witness. The same boat, where her good-for-nothing never-do well slut of a womb-mate had stolen her identity, as expected. What was unexpected was that her husband, whom she had abandoned, and her sister, whom she expected to die in her place, had instead survived and formed an unholy union.
-And they were pissed. And they got even.
In one fatal stroke of misfortune, her perfect plans to run away with her lover, Henry, where dashed. The madman who was supposed to kill her sister in her stead had instead been thwarted. Her pregnancy had yielded twins fathered by her loathed husband, and she was caught and trapped on the ocean.
Now, only one question remained. Had they left her to die? A sudden dread filled her.
It would take days to reach shore, even with the proper navigation.
Searching for the boat's ignition, she felt the key. Turned the engine and saw it was dead.
Reaching frantically for the radio, she grasped at the receiver. Praying that it would not be cut. The buzz of static surrounded her.
"Hello!?" she mouthed. Her voice was barely a whimper.
"Hello!?" She tried again and again, urging her throat to make a sound that could be heard.
Finally, a voice responded on the other end. But relief was temporary.
"Hello, Siobhan." A crisp clean, clear version of herself answered. Her twin, Bridget.
Her eyes widened. Dropping the receiver to the floor simultaneously. The radio continued.
"No, we didn't leave you to die." Another male voice added, her husband answering her thoughts. Instead of relaxing, gripping the seat cushion harder, she felt the fabric pull away at the seams. Her pulse quickened.
"We wanted to give you the same opportunity you gave me," the female voice continued calmly.
In the boat, Siobhan finally noticed a large black purse sitting at the bottom of the boat deck. Inside, the contents were a blue and red checkered flannel shirt. A black T-shirt. A pair of run of the mill denim jeans. A brown faux leather jacket, probably taken from a thrift store. The very type of clothing her sister was prone to wearing. Sitting on top of that lay a gold-chained necklace. The unmistakable bond that she had shared with her sister.
"We wanted to give you the opportunity to make the same choice."
"Where is this boat headed you ask?" Followed by, a long pause.
Her heart thumped. The drums beating loudly, pulsating in her ears.
She searched the unchanging horizon.
Well, here is a clue. It's between the Arabian Sea and Indian Ocean-You may want to blend in more."
Siobhan cursed under her breath. Ripping off her clothes as quickly as she could, she threw her expensive fabrics into the ocean. Putting on her poor sister's garb, she vowed revenge as she assumed her sister's identity in a bid to protect herself from what she knew would come next.
As a Somali ship bearing the insignia of pirates drew closer. Doubtlessly, they would look to plunder any wealth they could gather. Possibly hold hostage a twin of any value. Her best hope would be to feign little worth.
This was a fairytale after all, but just not for her, not the evil twin.
"Do you think we were a bit harsh?" Bridget wondered aloud. Her arms wrapped around her true love, Andrew, the man whom she least expected to return to her. Looking deeply into her eyes, Andrew chuckled.
"She will be fine… If not anything else, she's a survivor.
-Besides, it's not like we actually put her in Somalia."
"That's true. She just doesn't know that."
Locking fingers together, they held each other close. Her chest rising with his. Their breaths intermingled.
Agent Machado would come get her soon enough. All matters would soon be settled. What was important was they had each other, at last.
~ The End ~