Faithless Freedom
Author: Amy Lynn
Rating: PG…for some references
Disclaimer: Yes I’m back after a long hiatus, at least for a little while. But no, I still don’t own a damn thing related to Alias. Or the poem lyrics used (the words in italics all belong to Jewel). I do stake claim to all of the words I have written. You take them without my permission, and I will hunt you down. I’m not kidding. :::shakes fist:::
Summary: Just a short little something I wrote, full of post-season 3 Sarkney angst.
Author’s Note: I have a companion piece planned out…just in case by the end you’re wanting more
Having mutilated
And feed myself
Her heart was bleeding. She walked out the door without looking back. His heart was frozen.
Not all love builds the loved up. Some is destructive. She knew she was being swallowed into a dark pit. She had to escape.
She had left everything behind on a quest for solitude. But she had taken him with her, for some unknown reason at the time. Slowly he broke through her defenses.
Everyone she had trusted betrayed her. He swore he would not. She believed him for a while.
They got sucked back into the world with a visit from an old friend. She had been long thought dead when her organization fell, but secretly she had plotted, until the timing of her return was flawless.
Soon after her appearance, the dreams started.
* * *
She ran down the hallway in her recent nightmares. The yellow light of the sun chased her down. Memories of a different life, a happy life, hunted her.
The doors to her past were staggered along the way. Some were open, inviting. Others were sealed shut, so completely.
Suddenly he appeared.
He faced her calmly. Both stood utterly still. Her gun was poised to shoot – and the bullet would not miss the mark.
His eyes were cold as they both watched each other carefully. Her eyes, he could see, were laden with emotion. That was the only difference between them.
She hesitated, he did not.
She lay on the floor bleeding. Her soul was escaping with each moment. She would soon fade into nothing…
* * *
She would awake in a flash. The first time she had the dream, he had been there beside her, comforting her with the fire of his touch. But for the first time, she did not burn all the way through her soul.
The doubt had crept in. It continued to grow. It was slow at first. She would just feel a small prick of paranoia here and there.
But soon she would stare through him, trying to see what he was hiding. She caught nothing, but still did not believe.
The weight became too much to bear. And finally, she had to leave. It was odd how a lack of something would make her heavier. But she was weighed down with a lack of faith. She knew he would betray her one day. And she knew she would die from it. So she freed herself, and walked away.
From the very wings
Which for so long
Held me aloft
She had come to him when he was broken and bruised in a cell. Her skin was smooth and unblemished. But her tears bled as purple as his mangled face.
She felt a kinship with this battered killer. It did not matter what harms he had caused her. Both of their worlds were crumbling beneath the weight of betrayal.
In the beginning, he proved healing to have around. He soothed, not as one normally would with soft words and solace, but instead with logic and movement. They never stayed in a place long enough to think about anything but where they were going and what they were doing.
In keeping her mind active, he reminded her that she was still whole.
Soon she felt emptiness in her heart. It was a digging hole, clawing out her insides. The only way it could be filled was with him. She turned to him one night while they slept.
Fulfillment made her light. Her burdens lifted, allowing him to carry her.
I have cast my heart
Like a purpled fruit
Toward the violent earth
She was on a plane, flying away with a new name. He would follow her, of course. But life with him taught her to stay one step ahead. Theirs was a game of cat and mouse, yet they both played each part.
She had seen him with her. Not betraying her in actuality. But in her mind, it was the same. They were planning without her, watching her secretly, gauging her movements.
Anna was biding her time. Sydney would not make a mistake in front of her.
Sark was to blame. He had brought her into their world. And so Sydney must cut herself out of it.
Her heart broke as she left. But the pain was so familiar that she failed to notice it until she was already gone. It was too late then. He had hurt her with her perception of his mistrust, and she had retaliated with the same.
Unfortunately, she knew too much about their plans for either of them to let her go without a fight. Once again logic and constant movement kept her from mourning the loss of her heart.
Far from the Heaven
Of your arms
She allowed herself one good memory. It would only come to her at night. But she could see it clearly.
* * *
They sat at a small café on the small island of Anguilla, during their first year before their return to the game. They were obviously not natives, but they were welcomed warmly and lived in relative seclusion from the world.
He lifted his sunglasses and looked at her with a unreadable glint in his eyes. The sun was warm and shone brightly on the sand. The beach was not crowded and the day was lazy. They would be leaving the island soon, but they still had days before the worry of anyone finding them would be real.
They sunbathed nude that afternoon. It was primitive and real. It was the first moment since they had run that she felt safe. She was open and exposed. But he was there. And that was the day her world had changed.
* * *
Tears refused to fall whenever she thought of that moment in time. The pleasure of the moment was so great. When she closed her eyes, she could still feel the warmth of the sunlight spreading through her body.
It had been a moment of pure happiness, but not enough to erase the past.
Some bruises just went too deep.
Author: Amy Lynn
Rating: PG…for some references
Disclaimer: Yes I’m back after a long hiatus, at least for a little while. But no, I still don’t own a damn thing related to Alias. Or the poem lyrics used (the words in italics all belong to Jewel). I do stake claim to all of the words I have written. You take them without my permission, and I will hunt you down. I’m not kidding. :::shakes fist:::
Summary: Just a short little something I wrote, full of post-season 3 Sarkney angst.
Author’s Note: I have a companion piece planned out…just in case by the end you’re wanting more
Having mutilated
And feed myself
Her heart was bleeding. She walked out the door without looking back. His heart was frozen.
Not all love builds the loved up. Some is destructive. She knew she was being swallowed into a dark pit. She had to escape.
She had left everything behind on a quest for solitude. But she had taken him with her, for some unknown reason at the time. Slowly he broke through her defenses.
Everyone she had trusted betrayed her. He swore he would not. She believed him for a while.
They got sucked back into the world with a visit from an old friend. She had been long thought dead when her organization fell, but secretly she had plotted, until the timing of her return was flawless.
Soon after her appearance, the dreams started.
* * *
She ran down the hallway in her recent nightmares. The yellow light of the sun chased her down. Memories of a different life, a happy life, hunted her.
The doors to her past were staggered along the way. Some were open, inviting. Others were sealed shut, so completely.
Suddenly he appeared.
He faced her calmly. Both stood utterly still. Her gun was poised to shoot – and the bullet would not miss the mark.
His eyes were cold as they both watched each other carefully. Her eyes, he could see, were laden with emotion. That was the only difference between them.
She hesitated, he did not.
She lay on the floor bleeding. Her soul was escaping with each moment. She would soon fade into nothing…
* * *
She would awake in a flash. The first time she had the dream, he had been there beside her, comforting her with the fire of his touch. But for the first time, she did not burn all the way through her soul.
The doubt had crept in. It continued to grow. It was slow at first. She would just feel a small prick of paranoia here and there.
But soon she would stare through him, trying to see what he was hiding. She caught nothing, but still did not believe.
The weight became too much to bear. And finally, she had to leave. It was odd how a lack of something would make her heavier. But she was weighed down with a lack of faith. She knew he would betray her one day. And she knew she would die from it. So she freed herself, and walked away.
From the very wings
Which for so long
Held me aloft
She had come to him when he was broken and bruised in a cell. Her skin was smooth and unblemished. But her tears bled as purple as his mangled face.
She felt a kinship with this battered killer. It did not matter what harms he had caused her. Both of their worlds were crumbling beneath the weight of betrayal.
In the beginning, he proved healing to have around. He soothed, not as one normally would with soft words and solace, but instead with logic and movement. They never stayed in a place long enough to think about anything but where they were going and what they were doing.
In keeping her mind active, he reminded her that she was still whole.
Soon she felt emptiness in her heart. It was a digging hole, clawing out her insides. The only way it could be filled was with him. She turned to him one night while they slept.
Fulfillment made her light. Her burdens lifted, allowing him to carry her.
I have cast my heart
Like a purpled fruit
Toward the violent earth
She was on a plane, flying away with a new name. He would follow her, of course. But life with him taught her to stay one step ahead. Theirs was a game of cat and mouse, yet they both played each part.
She had seen him with her. Not betraying her in actuality. But in her mind, it was the same. They were planning without her, watching her secretly, gauging her movements.
Anna was biding her time. Sydney would not make a mistake in front of her.
Sark was to blame. He had brought her into their world. And so Sydney must cut herself out of it.
Her heart broke as she left. But the pain was so familiar that she failed to notice it until she was already gone. It was too late then. He had hurt her with her perception of his mistrust, and she had retaliated with the same.
Unfortunately, she knew too much about their plans for either of them to let her go without a fight. Once again logic and constant movement kept her from mourning the loss of her heart.
Far from the Heaven
Of your arms
She allowed herself one good memory. It would only come to her at night. But she could see it clearly.
* * *
They sat at a small café on the small island of Anguilla, during their first year before their return to the game. They were obviously not natives, but they were welcomed warmly and lived in relative seclusion from the world.
He lifted his sunglasses and looked at her with a unreadable glint in his eyes. The sun was warm and shone brightly on the sand. The beach was not crowded and the day was lazy. They would be leaving the island soon, but they still had days before the worry of anyone finding them would be real.
They sunbathed nude that afternoon. It was primitive and real. It was the first moment since they had run that she felt safe. She was open and exposed. But he was there. And that was the day her world had changed.
* * *
Tears refused to fall whenever she thought of that moment in time. The pleasure of the moment was so great. When she closed her eyes, she could still feel the warmth of the sunlight spreading through her body.
It had been a moment of pure happiness, but not enough to erase the past.
Some bruises just went too deep.
