inferno

told you i'd have the next chapter up quickly too. since most of you didn't respond to the last one yet, i'm only sending pm's to those who did. so if you didn't get a pm, that's why. hope you guys like. i just sent the next to chaps to meg so they'll be out soon too!

xiv. wind chimes
february. eighteen months later.
sark and irina ruled the world. their business had become the biggest crime syndicate on the planet. their joint efforts produced triple what they had done alone.
sark was more powerful than irina. it was supposed to be an equal partnership, but irina had been shot. the bullet collapsed a lung. she barely survived. so it took her a while to get back on her feet, and she still wasn’t back up to her best performance. sark wasn’t going to slow down just because she had to. because of that now irina had sort of faded in with the background. she was still powerful and had a hand in the decisions and the outcomes, but she wasn’t equal in status to sark.
sark loved the power. he loved the feeling. he could say something he wanted and it would be at his side within hours – it didn’t matter if it was the hope diamond or just a box of chocolate. his employees were loyal enough that they would do anything for him. just like irina had said, he was the world.
sark continued to keep tabs on sydney. sometimes he even went to l.a. himself. he watched her. she never noticed him, but he was often in the shadows. she was too wrapped up in work and her life to notice much outside of it. he knew that. he felt sorry for her.
***
francie was gone.
will was gone.
vaughn was bitter.
jack was distant.
sydney was lost.
francie and will. her two best friends in the world were gone. worst of all, she didn’t even know if they were dead or were just somewhere else. one day they had just disappeared. she never saw them again. it tore her apart. she had lost her connection to the world outside of the cia. she never felt normal again.
vaughn. the tension had been building between them since day one. they had both been obviously attracted to each other. when the alliance was taken down, they tried to start a relationship. it didn’t work. there was too much between them; all of the horror they had seen and had to deal with every day at work, the fact that sydney’s mother had killed vaughn’s father, it was all just too much for them. they began to fight and argue, angrily bickering with each other. the relationship had crumbled. vaughn had been hurt, even though he knew just as much as sydney knew that the relationship wasn’t going to work. he had been in love with her and the fact that that had been broken sent him over the top. he talked to her only when he had to. their conversations were always short and completely regarding business. it was hard for sydney. she was lonely. she had lost all of her friends.
jack. sydney lost jack too. it started as soon as the trail to irina ran cold. he didn’t even care about sark, but not catching irina was heart-wrenching to him. he couldn’t handle it. he became distant; spent almost all of his time at the office, working, trying to find something that could get him to irina. sydney didn’t understand his reasons – sometimes he would be so overtaken by rage that he would scream about irina, but other times he would speak quietly, almost lovingly, about her. sydney couldn’t understand him. so she and jack slipped apart. there was no real bond left. they had lost each other.
sydney lost herself in the mix. she lost a part of herself ever time she became a new character, put on a new wig, spoke with a new accent. she didn’t know where to turn. shamefully, she first went to alcohol. it did nothing but make her reek of booze and leave her with a headache the next day. she moved on; to pain pills. she had accumulated hundreds of pain pills over the years. every time she got shot, got stabbed, got kicked down a flight of stairs; they always gave her way too many. she had a pharmacy of vicodin and percocet in her bathroom cupboard. what was to stop her from taking it?
sd-6 and the alliance had been taken down. the cia finished them off. still, sometimes sydney thought the work was all useless, that nothing would come of it. nothing seemed to come from her existence at all.
if she wasn’t completely lost in herself, in her world, in the emptiness, sydney was angry. rage boiled in her just as often as her carelessness. there was no middle ground for her; there was only apathy and anger. she yelled, she bickered, she fought, with everyone, anyone. even marshall sometimes. she just couldn’t stand it anymore.

take away the sensation inside
bittersweet migraine in my head
it’s like a throbbing toothache of the mind
i can’t take this feeling anymore
drain the pressure from the swelling
this sensation’s overwhelming


sark knew all of this, watched all of this, with regret. he cared deeply for sydney; she was the only woman he ever paid so much attention to. she was the only woman who was always in the back of his mind. he couldn’t forget about her. no matter how high he was on power, he could never forget sydney. he dreamed about her. he wondered if she would work for him. what else did she have at the cia?
the truth was that she had little left for her. she had no friends, no relationships anymore. even the cia work had become monotonous and useless to her. she no longer thought they were doing enough to help the world. she hated being bound by restrictions – she felt that if something needed to be done, it needed to be done, no matter what it took. sark agreed. he wished he could offer her a job.
***
“remember this?” kendall asked, a picture of a necklace flashing up on the screen.
“the rambaldi necklace,” sydney said quietly. “sark took it years ago.”
“yes, but no one had been able to analyze and understand it. until now,” kendall explained. “we have word that derevko is buying what is apparently a ‘key’ to the necklace. she is buying it from an unknown man two days from now. we are going to crash the party.”
“we’re sending a team to calais,” jack said. “they’ll interrupt the buy and hopefully take derevko and possibly sark into custody.”
“who’s all on the team?” vaughn asked.
“both bristows, you, weiss, clement and yorton. you’ll have various back-up teams as well,” kendall replied. “you leave in twelve hours.”
***
calais. two days later.
“we have a vehicle approaching,” vaughn said. “looks to be the seller.”
“hold your positions,” jack instructed. “we don’t move until we have derevko in our sights.”
“dad, we don’t even know she’ll show up,” sydney sighed. “she’ll probably send an operative.”
“another vehicle,” vaughn interrupted a possible fight.
“derevko?” jack asked.
“no, sark. no one else is with him.”
“hold your positions.”
the team watched sark drive up in his pristine white escalade. he pulled his car to a stop and rolled down the window. the other man stepped out of his car with a briefcase.
“we go on my count. on three,” jack said.
he paused and they watched as the man opened the briefcase to show sark the key.
“one…two…three.”
“hands up! don’t move!” the team raced in.
bullets suddenly rained down on the cia agents.
“who’s shooting?!” jack yelled, ducking for cover.
the cia team ran behind cars and under overhangs of the buildings. anywhere they could find to hide, they hid.
“they’re tranq bullets,” sydney said. “i’m hit. it’s taking effect.”
the escalade took off, leaving the other man behind with his hands in the air. the briefcase had fallen to the ground. sark sped through the storm of bullets; the tranq bullets pounding down from above, and the cia team’s bullets aimed at his car.
he pulled to a stop in next to sydney’s passed out body. a man jumped out of the back of the car and pulled sydney in.
“damn it vaughn! i thought you said he didn’t have anyone with him!” jack exclaimed, shooting at the car as it drove into the distance.
“i didn’t see anyone!”
the tranq bullets stopped. the cia team that was not hit converged on the frightened man still holding up his hands. jack grabbed the briefcase. a single piece of white paper floated out of it to the ground. he grabbed it to read.
“thanks for letting me borrow sydney. i don’t know how long it will be until i return her. irina says hello.”
***
sydney woke up groggy and confused. it took her eyes time to adjust. they were blurry for a few minutes. when everything came into focus, she snapped to attention. this wasn’t home. it certainly wasn’t home.
it was a big, spacious room. she was in the middle of a four-poster bed with a down comforter over her and down pillows beneath her head. she glanced around the room. there was a picture of her next to the bed, framed. it was one of the pictures from the museum.
sark. memories of the night before came rushing back to sydney. the buy. sark. the tranq shot in the arm. fading out. blackness. sark must have taken her. and now here she was, in his mansion.
it was silent. absolutely silent. the last snowflakes of winter fell outside the window. sydney walked over to it. the grounds were covered in innocent white, as though they didn’t realise who owned them and the sins he had committed.
“my clothes,” sydney said aloud.
she was no longer in the clothes she had been in the night before. she was in pajamas, red silk pajamas.
“that son of a b**** changed me,” she growled to herself.
she didn’t know what to do. she couldn’t exactly march out and beat the felgercarb out of sark wearing his red silk pajamas, but she couldn’t just sit in his bed waiting for him to return. she looked around the room again.
laid over the couch was an outfit. it was just jeans, a long sleeve t-shirt and sweat-shirt. but it was an outfit. there was a note on top.
“for you. snow pants, a coat, hats, mittens and scarves are by the door. pick whichever you like. hope you had a good rest.
s.”
“damn it,” she sighed.
she didn’t have much of a choice. it was either wear the clothes he had chosen for her, or stay in silk pajamas. she began to undress.
sydney scanned the room, wondering where the cameras were. she figured sark was probably watching, the sick son of a b**** that he was. he probably enjoyed every minute of it. she sighed but pulled on the jeans.
they fit. perfectly. of course they fit. the long sleeve t did too. she looked at herself in the mirror. she looked normal. the clothes were clothes that she would actually wear, her style and everything. they could have been hanging in her closet and she wouldn’t realise that they weren’t hers; if they were with her other clothes she would have thought they were hers.
she pulled her hair into her standard ponytail and found outerwear at the door. she picked out what she thought she might need. she didn’t put it on yet, she wanted to have the chance to explore the house before she explored the grounds.
sydney took a breath, stood tall, and opened the door to the hallway.
“mr. sark is outside and wishes for you to join him,” someone accosted her before she took a step.
she just looked at the man. he was young, nervous, eager to please. he was afraid of her, afraid of what she would do to him. she couldn’t do anything. if she got away from him there would just be others. there was no way she could make it out of there alone. she sighed.
“follow me if you would miss,” the man said. “you can call me harris.”
he led her down the stairs, down four floors. he stopped outside the door.
“it’d probably be best if you put on the boots and snow pants and everything,” harris said.
“i don’t have boots,” sydney replied.
“oh, they’re right there. mr. sark hopes you like them,” he smiled weakly.
she sighed and began to put on the snow pants.
“you know, if you ask me, mr. sark fancies you,” his smile grew slightly. “did you see the picture he has of you next to his bed?”
“i was in his bedroom?!” sydney spat.
harris jumped slightly. sydney sighed. she looked like a child; sitting on the ground to put on snow pants and boots and complaining about something. harris replied to her nervously, his voice shaking.
“y-yes you were. don’t – don’t worry though, he wasn’t there with you. i mean, you didn’t share a bed or anything,” he explained.
“well thank you harris,” sydney said, standing up, ready to go but still silently angry. she opened the door. “now if you could just point me in the direction of ‘mr. sark’ that would be wonderful.”
“he’s in that cluster of trees,” he pointed.
sydney looked out and nodded. she closed the door behind her.
the air was brisk but it was nice. sydney loved nothing more than a walk on a cold morning. it woke her up, made her take notice of things around her. she just wished she was walking in her hometown instead of on the grounds of sark’s mansion.
she trudged through the snow toward the trees. the snow was deep, but light enough that she could push through. there was still the vestiges of the path sark had made when he went out; she followed in his footsteps.
even though the snow was relatively easy to walk through, sydney’s breath was coming hard by the time she reached the edge of the trees. she took a minute to catch her breath, and noticed the absolute silence of everything around her. it wasn’t just quiet, it was completely silent. there were no sounds.
sydney headed into the trees, trying to make the least amount of noise possible. there was no sign of sark. the trees had blocked a fair amount of snow, so there wasn’t a definitive path to follow. she stopped in the middle of a clearing and sighed. which way was she supposed to go now?
a sound made her jump. wind chimes. it came from behind her. she turned around.
sark was leaning against a tree, smirking. wind chimes were swinging next to him; their music permeating through the silence. he had a black beanie tilted on his head, the same way he did when sydney first saw him in the museum. the rest of his outwear was all black too. but sydney barely noticed that. she could only focus on his taunting smirk.
“good morning sleepy,” sark said. “glad to see you found your clothes okay. do you enjoy them?”
“did you undress me last night you disgusting f***?” sydney asked.
“you didn’t answer my question,” he replied. “and no, i didn’t. i had a female employee put you in pajamas. and to answer your next accusation, no, i didn’t watch on my cameras. now would you answer my question?”
“no, i don’t like the clothes. they’re awful,” she lied.
“really? well that’s a shame. i got them out of your closet at home,” he smirked.
sydney glared at sark. she knew he wasn’t lying; he probably had. she had admitted to herself that they looked a lot like her normal clothes. she couldn’t believe him.
“you went to my house? you went through my closet?” she growled.
“it was that or you would have to wear my clothes. i thought you would prefer something from home love,” he explained.
“don’t call me love. i’m not your f***ing love,” she rolled her eyes.
“i apologise. was harris polite to you?” he asked.
sydney scoffed. “that guy is so nervous and confused. does he understand anything about your operation? i mean seriously. he’s pathetic.”
“but he can make the best cup of coffee you’ve ever tasted,” sark replied. “he wasn’t too bothersome i hope.”
“he let me know that i slept in your bedroom,” she said through clenched teeth.
“well he also should have let you know that i did not share the bed with you. i thought you deserved the best, you had had a long day. so i let you take my bed and i slept in a guest room. did you at least sleep well?”
“why am i here julian? what possible use could you have for me?” she asked, taunting him with his first name.
“i’ve been watching you sydney,” he replied. “i’ve seen you slip away.”

well there’s a secret i've been perfecting,
i swore i wouldn't but you let me
i'm comfortably confused
(and you...) you've gotten so removed
you know i, i could take the place of those pills


she glared at him. she wasn’t about to admit it. no. not her. not sydney bristow. she didn’t even admit it to herself. she told herself that it was nothing, that she was always in control. the pills didn’t mean anything.
“what are you talking about?” sydney asked.
“you favor vicodin over percocet, but sometimes it gets so bad that you’ll take tylenol if you have to,” he replied, a slight stab of regret in his voice. “you’re here because you need help.”
“so what, you are supposed to be my rehab?” she scoffed.
“i’m supposed to get you off the bloody drugs sydney,” sark said defiantly. “i can’t believe what you’ve become. you used to be so strong, so perfect. you never had a weakness.”
“not like you, huh? you have a weakness; your sick obsession with me. it’s absurd. it’s such a wish, a longing for something that can never happen. you disgust me.”
“i don’t care if i f***ing disgust you or if you are in love with me – i care that you’ve lost yourself,” he replied. “you need help pulling your life back together, and i’m going to give it to you.”
“you want to help?” sydney asked. “lead me to irina. obviously she must stop by if you are working together. and if you are going to do this whole necklace deal, she should come by soon.”
“don’t you realise the ‘whole necklace deal’ was a fake? it was set up so i could get you out of that life. the suitcase held nothing but a note to your father. the necklace was stolen a long time ago,” sark explained. “and your mother does not stop by very often. we don’t exactly work together. we just share information. plus, she was shot and is still on the end of her rehabilitation.”
“shame she didn’t die,” she spat.
“you don’t really think that. you are really wondering where she was shot, why, what happened, is she okay.”
“am i?” sydney asked. “is that what i’m thinking?”
“yes. and i’ll be happy to let you know the answers, if you can admit that you want to know,” he replied.
she sighed and rolled her eyes. “i want to know.”
“she was shot in the chest. the bullet collapsed a lung. it was just about two months ago,” he explained. “we were in a meeting with another syndicate. things didn’t go as planned.”
“oh, you mean you didn’t plan on her getting shot?” sydney scoffed.
“no, we didn’t sydney. and there’s no need to be so sour. we expected it all to go just fine. it was quite a surprise when the shots came. your mother didn’t get behind the desk quickly enough. she barely survived.”
“i’m sure you were the one who saved her. you’re her hero,” she rolled her eyes.
“why so bitter sydney? no need to be angry with me love. i’m here to help,” sark said, a slight smirk playing on his lips.
sydney sighed. what was she going to do? here she was, stuck with sark, away from her father, away from everyone, away from the cia…away from her pills. she was screwed. completely screwed.
“how long are you going to keep me here sark?” she asked.
“you don’t think i am serious about getting you off of the pain killers. i am,” he replied. “i am not going to let you stay so removed, so out of everything. there are so many better things you can do to feel good about yourself than drugs.”
“and which of the ‘so many better things’ do you do to feel good about yourself?”
“have sex.”
she looked at him. his smirk glowed from his face.
“you’re such an ***hole,” sydney sighed.
“that’s the one i do most often. i also happen to have a lot of power, wine, money, clothes, cars and guns. those also help to make me feel good about myself,” he replied. “i also,” he paused and hit the wind chime again, “enjoy wind chimes. something about the simple music that breaks the silence out here is really nice.”
“well if you expect me to stay here long i hope you brought all of my clothes from my closet back home,” she changed the subject.
she didn’t really care. she didn’t care why she was here. she didn’t care that the cia probably had a taskforce out trying to find her. she didn’t really care about anything anymore. she didn’t even care that she was with sark. she used to hate him, despise him, but now she was just so apathetic.
“i thought we could go shopping today,” sark suggested.
“god you’re serious aren’t you?” sydney scoffed. “you are going to buy me clothes.”
“i’ll buy you whatever you want love. i’m not trying to torture you,” he replied.
“i told you not to call me love.”
“it’s just a common expression for me. i apologise. i will try not to,” he said. “so do you want to go shopping?”
sydney sighed. “fine.”
she followed sark back toward the house, hitting the wind chime on her way.


what'd ya think?

m-c
 
wow!!!! this is a great story, I started reading it about 4 days ago, and i'm totally hooked. Its progression is fantastic, and I like how you started the story in his youth, as you have developed his character well. This chapter was brill, as it did make you feel for sydney ( i.e. the pills). and developed the quirkness of Sark - Wind chimes!!!! ... interesting

Fantastic overall, :D

Please pm me when a new chapter is up
 
I love this story! It keeps on getting better and better as it goes on... which is why im kinda pretty much sad to say

that i should be taken off the PM list. I dont have much time nowadays to go on AA.. so yeah.

Thanks for the PM's :smiley:
 
bluebear_74 -- i've never really had time to go anywhere but allalias. i know my way around here, and i've got all my peeps :smiley: i'll think about it if i get some time though. thanks.
sarkonic -- really glad you liked it. i looked and saw that you only had one post here and it was at my story. i felt so special! :smiley:
winter_snow -- sorry you don't have time. thanks for reading it thus far though!

okay so here's the next chapter. meg and i are really pumping these out now! :smiley: hope you guys like where it's headed. this is one of my fave chapters.

xv. maybe things change
sydney lay in her bed. she thought about the day. she hadn’t had a pill. one day’s withdrawl wasn’t that bad. of course, she had other things to worry about, other reasons to forget about the pills. she had had a relatively busy day, there were only a few hours in which she could feel sorry for herself. when she did, sark was always there to piss her off or comfort her, or both. she didn’t know the difference anymore. even without the pills, she didn’t know the difference. she didn’t really know anything anymore.
***
earlier in the day
sydney was not very happy about going shopping. she didn’t want sark’s charity. she didn’t want him buying her things. but she did need clothes. plus, she hadn’t really gone shopping since francie had disappeared. they used to go one weekend a month and just shop the entire time. as far as sydney could remember, it was a lot of fun. she doubted shopping with sark of all people would be anywhere near as fun, but it was worth a try. she didn’t have much of a choice anyway.
he blindfolded her in the car before the driver took off. that really pissed her off. she didn’t like not being in control.
“what the f*** do you think you’re doing? you aren’t seriously blindfolded me are you? i can’t f***ing believe you,” she scoffed.
“well when i send you back to the cia i can’t risk you knowing where i live,” sark replied.
she knew he was smirking even though she couldn’t see it.
“you think i won’t remember all of the turns and everything and be able to find my way back here from whatever store we go to?” she threatened. “because i will. i’ll find you.”
“you think we’re stupid enough to allow you to do that? please. we’re just driving to my airplane,” he replied.
she sighed. of course, she didn’t expect anything less from sark. he would never make it so easy for her.
***
sydney didn’t know where they were flying or how long they were on the flight. they could have been going in circles for all she knew. she didn’t even know what country the mansion had been in to begin with. at least the blindfold was off of her.
she sighed. sark looked over to her.
“we’re almost there,” he assured her. “just a few minutes until we start our descent.”
she just looked at him. he was handsome, she’d give him that much. she had admitted that to francie after the first time she saw him, in the museum. she said he was suave and charming and handsome. of course, he was also cocky. lately sydney didn’t know if she liked that aspect or hated it.
“if you would all return to your seats and buckle up, we are beginning our descent,” the pilot’s voice said.
“is that the same pilot who flew me home last time i was with you?” sydney asked, buckling herself in.
“yes actually it is,” sark smiled. “he’s quite a good pilot.”
sydney sighed. it didn’t really matter to her, but she felt the need for conversation, to hold onto the words as they dripped through the air. it was all she had to hold onto.
she couldn’t believe she was going shopping with sark.
***
“oh my god,” sydney said aloud.
sark had an entire store just waiting to serve her. every employee was ready, waiting for her arrival, waiting to do whatever she wanted them to.
“i thought you’d think it was nice to have everyone wait on you,” sark said.
“yeah but you got the entire store?” she asked.
“once you get settled, i need a few new suits,” he replied.
“this must be miss sydney,” a man came forward and kissed her hand. “mr. sark told me you were beautiful, but he didn’t do you justice.”
sydney blushed.
“come, come. let us serve you,” the man said with his slight french accent. “my name is stanford. we have everything in the store programmed in this computer so we can display it on the wall. it will be like a slide show and you will just tell us to stop when you see something you like.”
“god i feel like julia roberts in ‘pretty woman,’” sydney giggled.
“only the best for you,” sark smirked.
“mr. sark you go sit over there,” stanford instructed. “you have no business in choosing this gorgeous woman’s clothes. you, miss sydney, sit right here. just stop us when you see anything you like. if the slides are going too fast or too slow, just let us know. jane, start the show!”
sydney giggled and looked over at sark. maybe he wasn’t the worst thing in the world after all.
she really did feel like she was julia roberts. she got anything she wanted. anything at all. they were all so helpful, always let her know what looked best. they always told her what went with what and if she liked that skirt that she would just love this next one they had. it was a lot of fun. it made her forget everything else. sark left about halfway through, but she didn’t notice.
that’s all people need sometimes, a chance to be recognized, to be cared for, to be waited on. she was happy for the day.
***
“well, that is everything we have,” stanford said, smiling from ear to ear. “i hope you have enough.”
“oh stanford i have everything i could ever need. thank you so much!” sydney exclaimed. “you made my day.”
“do not give us so much credit, miss sydney. we are here to serve you. you have made our day,” he replied.
“well thank you very much.”
“how was it?” sark asked, coming down from the second floor.
“it was great, but don’t think this means i like you now,” sydney replied. “you still piss me off.”
“always nice to have a purpose in life,” he smirked.
sydney rolled her eyes. she was pretty happy about the clothes, shoes and accessories she had gotten. what made it even sweeter was that she knew it cost sark a fortune.
“mr. sark, her clothes as well as yours comes to a total of – ” an employee began.
“george! you know better than to announce the expenses in front of the person who is receiving the gift. just let mr. sark pay,” stanford interrupted.
sydney smiled. it was nice to cost money but not have to pay for it yourself.
sark paid – “keep the change,” he said – and led sydney out of the store.
“what’d you get?” she asked.
“a few new suits. nothing to special,” he shrugged.
“you think you’re so hot don’t you? dressing all fancy. do the girls just lurve it?” she mocked.
“as a matter a fact, they do,” he smirked. “don’t kid yourself, you know you like it too.”
“riight…so how much did i cost?” sydney giggled.
“i wouldn’t be much of a gentleman of me if i were to tell you,” he replied.
“you know something? part of the fun of that was the fact that i knew it would be costing you a fortune,” she smiled.
“always looking on the bright side, aren’t you dear agent bristow?”
sydney let the ‘dear’ slide. she knew sark had done it just to press her buttons anyway, and she didn’t want to ruin her moment of happiness. she had been treated like a queen, and, for the moment anyway, she felt like one.
***
“why did you buy me all of these things?” sydney asked.
“well, if i expect you to live with me for a month or two, i figure you’ll need to be comfortable,” sark replied. “tomorrow you’ll get to decorate a room for yourself.”
“and what, you’ll get anything i want from my home to bring over?”
“if that’s what you want, yes,” he said. “you don’t seem to be able to comprehend the possibility that maybe i don’t have an agenda. maybe i really am only keeping you with me because i care that you are addicted to pain pills. since no one else has seemed to take notice, i’m the only one who can be your intervention. that’s the only reason you’re here. i’m not going to hurt you or anything. i’m not trying to be a hero, but i’m also not a devil.”
“you’re pretty damn close you know that? you’re a terrorist. you’re an assassin. a murderer. a torturer,” she accused. “god only knows what else you have done to the people in your custody.”
“i’ve already told you that i’m not a terrorist. i don’t instill terror in people. i’m not bin laden. it’s not like when people hear my name they flinch and cower. i’m a businessman, and i do my business the way i need to to get it done. you would do the same if you were in my position,” he explained. “yes, i’ve killed people. so have you. the only difference is when you do it, it rids the world of an evil person and benefits the american government; when i do it, it rids the world of an evil person and benefits me. it’s not like i’m killing innocents, just like it’s not like you’re killing innocents. we are both making the world a better place, whether you want to agree with me or not. and as for your little jab of ‘god only knows what i’ve done,’ give me a break. i haven’t done anything worse than killing someone.”
“what are you saying? you think there is something worse than murder?” sydney asked.
“i was saying that you and i are a lot alike," sark replie. "it was only my last sentence that had anything to do with murder. but yes, rape would be worse than murder. having to live with that memory would be worse than not having to live at all.”
sydney thought for a moment.
“i suppose i agree. but i think you could work through it and get closure," she said
“please. closure is unreal. it’s made up so people can pretend they are okay and move on with their life. it’s made up so psychologists can milk people for money. it’s completely fictional. you can never get closure, never understand, never forget the pain in life.”
“do you speak from experience?” she asked.
“is it any of your business?” sark countered.
she sighed. “just to let you know, we are not anywhere close to being the same. no matter what you say, you are evil, and you can’t change that.”
“and you’re not evil? just because you are hurting yourself, killing yourself, instead of other people means you aren’t just as bad as i am? just because you are turning inward and ruining yourself instead of others means that’s okay? my god sydney that’s worse!” he exclaimed. “you’re killing something precious and amazing, i kill things that are disgusting and revolting. how can you claim to be better than me?”
***
“i’m not sleeping in your bed,” sydney announced.
sark chuckled. “come again?”
“last night you had me sleep in your bed. you said you wanted me to have the best. i’m not sleeping in your bed tonight,” she repeated. “i’m sure one of the many other rooms are good enough for me.”
“why won’t you sleep in my room?” he asked. “it is the nicest room out of all of them.”
“i don’t like sleeping in a bed that you’ve probably had sex in. i don’t like sleeping in a bed that you’ve slept in at all. and i especially don’t like the fact that you have a picture of me next to your bed.”
s***. forgot to take that down sark thought to himself.
“i haven’t had sex in any of the beds in this house. this is my place for business. if you weren’t here i wouldn’t be sleeping here most nights,” he said.
“where would you be sleeping?” sydney asked.
“really think i’m going to tell you that?” he chuckled. “it’s a nice place. it feels like a real home.”
she rolled her eyes. “right. i’m sure it’s really home-y.”
“it is, love, but it isn’t worth an argument,” he replied. “and you can sleep anywhere you want. just let me know and i’ll make sure it gets cleaned and your clothes get transferred there.”
“fine. whatever.”
“you really enjoy being difficult don’t you?”
***
“where are will and francie?”
sydney had been waiting the whole day to ask the question. she had been devising the best way to phrase it, the best way to get a true answer. she had argued about other things, accused sark of being evil, bottled up her emotions and ignored him. she had dealt with him for an entire day and tried to forget about the question lingering in her mind. but finally she just couldn’t wait any longer. she had to know.
sark just looked at her. it was as though he couldn’t believe she had asked the question. he sighed.
“what do you mean?”
“you know what i mean!” she exclaimed. “are they alive? are they comfortable, healthy, happy? where are they?”
“i don’t know,” sark lied. “why would i know?”
“maybe because you have always kept tabs on me, on my friends and family, on everyone i know,” sydney snapped. “i know you know what happened to them, tell me.”
“or what? you’ll go back to the pills? did you bring some with you on your last mission? or maybe you thoroughly enjoyed that tranq dart. it made you lose touch with everything. you didn’t have to feel anymore. well guess what – you do. you still have to feel. and i know that you are ruined by not knowing about francie and will, but i’m telling you the truth when i say that i don’t know either,” he replied.
“i don’t believe you,” she said. “you’re lying. and i hate you for it.”
“you hate me for a lot of things,” he sighed. “i doubt lying would be the worst.”
“so are you admitting that you are lying?”
“no, i’m not,” he sighed. “i don’t know what happened. but if i did, not telling you wouldn’t be the worst thing i’ve ever done.”
“tell me,” she demanded. “you have to tell me. i can’t live like this anymore. i have to know.”
he stayed silent.
“how can you do this?!” she exclaimed, tears forming in her eyes, her words running from her mouth at breakneck speed. “you just sit there as though you feel nothing and yet you claim to not like the fact that i am what you call ruining myself. this is what is ruining me, this is what is tearing me apart. not knowing. not understanding. just wishing and hoping and at the same time thinking of all the horrible things that could have happened. it makes me want to turn my skin inside-out. i hate it. it makes me wish i were dead. that all of the horrible things that could have happened to them happened to me instead. i want – ”
“they’re dead, okay?!” he yelled. “they’re both dead.”

welcome to the planet
welcome to existence
everyone’s here everyone’s here
everybody’s watching you now
everybody waits for you now
what happens next?
what happens next?


sydney sucked in her breath. she was trying to keep the tears in her eyes and not running down her cheeks.
“how?”
“they didn’t suffer,” he sighed. “they went for a picnic. chose a secluded park. you knew they were seeing each other, it was meant to be romantic. instead, as they took the first bite of dessert, two sniper bullets ripped through their skulls. death was instantaneous.”
she gasped for air. she couldn’t tell if the tears were falling or not. gone. they were gone. forever. she would never see francie’s smile again, never hear will’s laugh. she would never…she couldn’t even form thoughts. it was just too much, too overwhelming.
sark didn’t even say anything, he just left the room. left sydney crying in a chair by herself. she didn’t know how much time passed until she got a hold of herself. eventually harris came in.
“may i show you to your room, miss?” he offered.
she nodded and followed him. what else was she supposed to do? was this what her life had come to? she was going to live with sark, let him take her shopping, let him do anything she needed him to, and just pray that she wouldn’t be quite so out of her mind anymore. how could that work?
she couldn’t believe francie and will were dead. actually, she could believe it. she had know it was likely. suddenly it seemed so permanent, but it wasn’t a complete surprise. it wasn’t as though she hadn’t thought of it, hadn’t realised that it was the most likely scenario.
she hadn’t had a pill all day. she desperately wanted one. anything to let her disconnect, decompress. not that she was completely connected at the moment anyway. everything was already out of focus.
she crawled to the top of the bed to get under the covers. there was a note on the pillow. it had simply “i’m sorry” written on it in red ink in his messy handwriting. she smiled slightly. at least there was something she could hold onto. two years ago she would have hated herself for having no one but sark to hold onto, but now, she took whatever she could get.
she liked that he cared enough to kidnap her, no matter how ironic that seemed. she did need someone to intervene, to save her. and she was glad he stepped up. she still thought he was a murderer and evil, but maybe things can change.
she hated the pills as much as sark did. but he doesn’t understand. he thinks he can just fix me. how is he supposed to fix me? he gets me to stop taking the pills then sends me back to l.a. where i hate my life, hate my acquaintances, hate myself. of course i’ll start up again. the only way he’ll be able to cure me is if he gives me something to live for.

hope you liked it.

m-c
 
Ahh just thought I'd sugest it, there quite a lot of Sark fanfc readers there.

Great chap btw, sad about Fancie and Will, also who wouldn't want to go shopping with Sark and be spoiled.
 
Again absolutely fantastic. Isn't Sark a sweetey! The dealing of francies and wills death is wonderful and sark leaving that note saying i'm sorry is so cute.

Hail sark!!! :Ph34r:

Pm me when you put up a new chapter
Keep going this story is fantastic and well worthy of praise!!!! :D
 
xvi. sweet pain
she had been ruining herself. she had. there was no doubt about it. even she didn’t doubt it. she had simply doubted that sark could fix her. he was the one who said closure doesn’t exist, so how was she supposed to get over everything?
sark pampered her. she tested him. she would say she wanted something simply to see if he would actually get it for her. he did. he got her everything she needed. she took a bubble bath every night with new scents, new candles, new music. she ate lobster and artichoke and drank expensive wines. he let her. he wanted to help her.
getting over the drugs was harder than she expected. she slipped into a deep depression. sark kept her happy enough not to hurt herself, but she was just barely hanging onto life. she was sad and tired all the time. she had read about the depression, but had never thought it would be so bad. she had never been depressed before. it was hard.
of course, that was weeks ago. she had been with sark for almost a month. and now, she had pulled out of the depression, and gotten off of her addiction. she felt almost back to normal. she was still frightened to go back to her old life, scared she would slip back into her old habits. she didn’t want to slip back into her old habits.
***
“i’m going to practise my shot in the morning,” sark said at dinner. “sleep in. harris will bring you breakfast in bed.”
“can i practise mine?” sydney asked.
he chuckled and looked at her.
“oh, you’re serious? you, going through withdrawl from pain pills, getting over the death of your two best friends, dealing with the fact that you are separated from everything you know, want to have a gun in your hands? you think i would let you have a gun in your hands?”
“you’ve let me have everything else,” she replied. “come on. it’s not like i’m going to shoot myself, or you, or anyone. i’ve heard you were the best sniper in the world. maybe you could teach me something.”
“yes, because you so often need to have the skills to kill someone from hundreds of yards away. you kill people like that a lot don't you?” he smirked.
“it can never hurt to have the skill, can it?”
he sighed. “i’m getting sick of giving you everything you ask for.”
“unfortunately for you, i’m not getting sick of asking,” it was she who smirked this time.
“you know that i’m helping you, but you still try to be as difficult as possible,” he said. “i just don’t understand you.”
“oh no, terrorist-assassin-man doesn’t understand me. my world is crumbling,” she rolled her eyes.
“i’m sick of being called a terrorist. you can’t make that accusation when you know evidence to the contrary,” his patience was waning.
“yeah, well to tell you the truth, i’m sick of being here. i’m sick of you. i’m sick of being considered broken by everyone i come across. i’m sick of seeing pity in people’s eyes when they talk to me. i’m sick of a lot of things, but i deal with it!” sydney exclaimed.
“then deal with the fact that you are not going to be practising your shot tomorrow. you’re sleeping in, and harris will bring you breakfast in bed,” sark ordered.
“you can’t f***ing tell me what to do!”
“really? then why are you still here? why have you been living under my roof and abiding by my rules? it’s been over three weeks. if i can’t tell you what to do, then go ahead and leave; apparently i’m not allowed to tell you to stay,” he scoffed. “it’s my house, and i care about you. that’s something you’re just bloody going to have to deal with.”
he stood from the table quickly, leaving his half-eaten meal behind as he marched out through the swinging door.
“***hole,” sydney sighed to herself.
***
inhale. his thumb tightened; the target went down. exhale.
there was nothing so wonderful as a gunshot breaking absolute silence. it shattered the sound of nothing, and lingered with its echo. within ten seconds of the bullet flying through the air, everything was still again. it was as though nothing had happened. the complete stillness of everything around him, he loved it. his grounds could be absolutely silent. if he closed his eyes he felt like he was floating through nothingness. stillness. silence.
“nice shot.”
sark sighed. “dammit i told you not to come out here.”
sydney ignored his annoyance.
“i’m the only one who can sneak up on you right? isn’t that what you said the first time i found you practising your shot?” she asked.
“when i said that, i thought you were your mother,” he replied.
“really?”
it was a surprise. she never thought of it before. it made sense though. of course it made sense.
sark tried to ignore sydney. she broke the silence. he didn’t like the fact that she broke the silence. it wasn’t as crisp and clean as the gunshot. it was prettier though – that surprised him. he didn’t expect to think her voice was more beautiful than a gunshot. he had never thought anything was a better sound than a gunshot.
he shook the thought from his head. why couldn’t she just let him practise in peace?
he aimed. it was the farthest target, the hardest target to hit. inhale. the target disappeared. exhale.
easy he thought to himself.
“let me take a shot,” sydney said.
“bloody hell woman!” he exclaimed. “can’t i just shoot in peace? this is the one thing that calms me down, that lets me lose myself to the world. the stillness, the silence. just go back to the mansion.”
“trust me,” sydney’s voice was quiet, “losing yourself to the world isn’t all it’s cracked out to be.”

welcome to the fallout
welcome to resistance
the tension is here
the tension is here
between who you are and who you could be
between how it is and how it should be
yeah


he looked at her.
“that’s not what i meant,” he sighed. “this just – it calms me down. it lets me think for a while. sometimes you need that.”
“i know. why do you think i got addicted to the pain pills to begin with?” she asked.
“because you wanted attention,” he smirked.
she just sighed and looked away.
“look at yourself. you won’t even fight with me anymore. you used to always come back with something that cuts more than my comment did,” he said. “you’re gone. you’ve lost your moral, righteous attitude. you’ve lost your patriotism. what have you become? you need to do something. move on. be who you are.”

i dare you to move
dare you to move
dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
i dare you to move
dare you to move
like today never happened
today never happened


“i have become what this world has made me,” she replied. “i’ve lost everyone in my life. lost everything. don’t give me the after-school s*** about being myself.”
“oh shut up!” sark exclaimed. “bloody hell. don’t blame it on the misfortunes of the world. for god’s sake take control of your life! you’re so much better than all this s***. it’s not an after-school special it’s reality, and you are being completely absurd. you have gotten yourself off of the pills now, and that’s great. but you can’t just think that’s enough and sit around on your ass waiting for something good to come around.”

maybe redemption has stories to tell
maybe forgiveness is right where you fell
where can you run to escape from yourself?
where ya gonna go?
where ya gonna go?
salvation is here


“don’t you f***ing even dare to call me absurd! you’re the one who has kidnapped me and you’re the one who is holding me against my will. you’re the one who is a deranged, sick bastard!” sydney yelled.
“if this is against your will, then leave. okay, fine with me. leave. whatever you want to do. if that’s your will, go. at least you’ll leave me to practise my shot in peace.”
she glared at him. “you are such an ***hole.”
“there’s the sydney i know and love,” he smirked.
“oh f*** off.”
she stormed away. sark just smirked. so she wasn’t completely lost; she still had that flare inside her. he adored that flare.
***
sark was sprawled over a chair in flannel pajama bottoms and a chocolate-stained t-shirt. he was yelling at the soccer game on the television. sydney scoffed when she saw him.
“looking real hot,” she rolled her eyes. “don’t you do anything around here? i mean, the entire time that i have been here you have sat on your ass and done nothing at all.”
“your mother is handling the business at the moment. she’s still a bit slower than usual but she’s doing well enough,” sark replied, eyes still on the television. “she’ll ring if she needs anything. i trust her to handle everything. oh f*** it! pass the bloody ball arse-hole!”
sydney laughed.
“what?” he looked at her.
“you are so pathetic. you are supposed to be the arrogant, womanizing, bad ass sark. yet here you are, wearing flannel pants and a dirty shirt, yelling at a soccer game on t.v. you look like a moron. it’s hard to believe you rule an empire,” she chuckled.
“it’s called football here, you know? football, not soccer. and every arrogant, womanizing, bad ass has his own football team,” he replied. “and i told you that you could leave if you wanted to, so i suppose you enjoy me being a pathetic moron.”
“um, mr. sark?” harris interrupted, cautiously opening the door.
“harris, how many times do i have to tell you not to interrupt me when i am watching football?” sark sighed.
“i know sir, but – um – ms. derevko is on the line. it’s important,” harris explained.
sark muted the television and nodded.
“put her on speaker.”
“are you sure, mr. sark?” harris asked, looking at sydney.
“i said put her on speaker,” he repeated.
“yes sir.”
“irina, what has happened?”
“cia happened. raided telecorps,” irina replied. “everything was taken care of. just calling to tell you.”
“jack, vaughn and weiss?” sark asked.
“yes.”
“anyone injured, on either side?”
“since when are you interested in if they are hurt?” irina questioned. “and how did you know sydney wasn’t with them?”
“because she’s with me. they only raided it to look for her,” he explained.
“is anyone hurt or not?” sydney asked.
“sydney?” irina’s voice was quiet.
“was anyone hurt?” she repeated.
“no. jack was hit but it was in the vest and he is fine. nothing else,” irina replied. “are you okay?”
sydney didn’t reply.
“sark pick up the phone, now!” irina exclaimed.
sark stood and took the receiver off of the hook.
“why is she with you?!”
she yelled it so loudly sydney could hear from across the room.
“irina, calm down,” he said quietly.
“don’t tell me to calm down! you’re with my daughter for no reason whatsoever! what the hell are you doing?!”
“remember how you don’t dictate what i do anymore?” sark asked. “remember how i told you i cared about your daughter, and remember that you said you could deal with that if that’s what you had to do to work with me? well those things make me think that i don’t have to tell you why your daughter is with my right now.”
“put her back on speaker,” sydney said.
“are you sure?”
she nodded.
sark did as he was told.
“i am with him because i need to be,” sydney said. “don’t question it.”
“has he hurt you?” irina asked.
“don’t pretend like you care,” sydney sighed. “you left when i was six years old. you were never a mother to me. so don’t pretend like i mean something to you.”
“did you read my letter? will you give me a chance to explain myself?”
“no. do your business with sark, and don’t talk to me again,” she replied.
she left the room. it was quiet.
“tell me why she is with you,” irina broke the silence.
“no. she told you not to question it. no, i haven’t hurt her. let it go,” sark said.
“so she is living with you? for how long?” she asked.
“she’s been here over three weeks and she will be here for as long as she needs to be,” he replied. “it is not against her will.”
“i’m sure it’s not,” she scoffed. “three f***ing weeks? i can’t believe you sark. you bastard…so where is she now? climbing into your bed for the night? sitting in your office going over files?”
“irina, is there anything else i need to know about the raid or are you just going to yell at me about sydney?” sark asked.
“there’s nothing else.”
“fine, then goodbye.”
he hung up the phone. it was half-time of his football game. he turned the t.v. off and went to search for sydney. he didn’t know what talking to irina might have done to her. he just hoped she didn’t get her hands on advil or anything.
***
sydney hadn’t looked for pills, she hadn’t even thought of it. instead, she headed to sark’s office. she wondered what type of business he was doing. she rifled through files, read papers. she learned more about sark’s operation from a few papers than the cia had discovered in years of searching.
“put it down,” sark said.
he was standing at the door, gun raised. sydney was looking through another file.
“right. you really expect me to believe that you are going to shoot me?” she asked. “you’re the one who drones on and on about how much you care about me. i don’t believe you’d pull the trigger.”
“i’m not planning on killing you or anything, but you shouldn’t be reading that,” sark replied. “and i’m sorry that i can’t fire a warning shot; i don’t want to ruin my walls.”
“oh well of course not. or, you aren’t planning on shooting me at all so a warning shot wouldn’t even matter,” she said. “this is some very compelling stuff you know?”
“put it down now.”
“you still haven’t shot me. i don’t think you will,” she turned the page.
his finger tensed. the bullet ripped through her shoulder. she screamed in pain.
“i’m sorry but i told you to put it down,” sark said, walking over to her.
he put all of his files back where they belonged and then tended to sydney.
“bloody hell, that was a good shot. i don’t think i hit anything of importance,” he said.
“right, only my shoulder,” she groaned.
“well, at least i didn’t hit a bone or an organ.”
“mr. sark, is everything all right?” harris entered the room.
“get elise on speaker phone would you?” sark asked.
“of course sir.”
harris dialed as sark put pressure on the wound. he had situated himself behind sydney with her leaning back into his lap. she was fighting back sobs of pain.
“get off of me!” she exclaimed.
“oh shut up,” he sighed.
“julian is that you?” a voice from the phone asked.
“doc, hey,” sark smiled. “i’ve got a woman here, shot in the shoulder. no exit wound. bullet doesn’t seem to have hit a bone or organ or anything.”
“it’d be hard to hit an organ in the shoulder julian,” the woman said.
“oh bugger off doc.”
“is it irina again?”
“no!” sydney exclaimed. “but when you come, some morphine would be nice! jesus, it hurts.”
“haven’t you ever been shot before sydney?” sark asked. “yeah, it hurts. elise, don’t bring anything for the pain.”
“julian that is not a good thing to do. come on, she needs something,” elise replied.
“she’s with me because i’m getting her off her addiction to pain pills,” he explained. “i think she can deal with the pain if it means she’s not going to become addicted again.”
“okay. i’ll be there in five.”
harris turned off the speaker phone.
“is there anything i can do sir?” he asked.
“no harris. just wait at the door for doc and bring her here when she comes,” sark replied.
“yes sir,” he left.
sydney moaned in pain.
“as much as it hurts, isn’t it nice to feel again?” sark whispered in her ear. “the pain has to be sweet. it’s always nice to remember that your blood is pumping through your veins, to remember that your heart is beating, that you can still feel.”
she sighed. “yeah. it’s nice to feel.”
she looked back at him. he kept pressure on the wound.
“sorry i had to do that love, but really, you should have put it down,” he smiled slightly.
“i told you not to call me love,” her voice was quiet, breathy.
she pulled herself up a few inches and planted her lips on his. it was just as passionate as their first kiss. he lost his breath, lost his composure, forgot to keep pressure on the wound. his mind swirled around him, everything blurring together except her taste.
“so what julian – you shoot them then you kiss them?” elise interrupted them.
they pulled apart from each other; sark holding on as long as he could.
“whoever said i shot her?” he replied. “thanks for coming doc.”
“just for the record,” sydney said, “he did shoot me.”
“she wouldn’t put down a file,” sark argued.
“shut up julian. lie her down here for me, i’m not going to move her to get the bullet out,” elise said. “sorry about the blood on your floor; i know how you love your office.”
“this is more important.”
elise raised her eyebrows at sark as she got ready. he ignored it.
“oh my god,” elise said when she looked at sydney. “it’s—”
sark nodded.
“wow. sark has told me so much about you. and i’ve met your mother, you look just like her,” she smiled. “really, it’s so great to meet you. sark talks about you—”
“elise, can you just get the bullet out?” sark asked.
“yeah, sorry.”
sydney ignored what elise had said and prepared herself for the pain.
“i can’t believe you aren’t giving me a single f***ing bit of anything,” she growled.
“shut up. you like the pain.”
“i don’t really want her poking around there with me being able to feel everything,” she replied.
“if you’re a good girl, i’ll let you practise your shot tomorrow,” he offered.
“please,” elise cut in, “she’s not shooting a gun tomorrow. she’ll need rest.”
she pulled on her rubber gloves and was ready. she ripped away the shirt and went at her shoulder.
“jesus christ!” sydney exclaimed.
“just squeeze my hand and think of something you’d really like to do,” sark said.
“you mean like killing you?” she replied.
“if that’s what works,” he smirked.
“***hole.”
“such a lady,” he laughed.
sydney clenched her teeth and squeezed sark’s hand as hard as she could.
“the bullet’s in a tricky place,” elise said. “this may hurt.”
“as if it’s not already?” sydney asked.
“harris!” sark called. the boy came running in immediately. “take off your belt.”
he did as he was told. sark grabbed it and put it in between sydney’s teeth.
“trust me, you’ll appreciate it.”
elise got the bullet out as quickly as she could and sewed her back together. sydney groaned in pain but had enough breath to thank her.
“thanks,” she sighed. “it still hurts like hell though.”
“yeah, i know. just let me bandage it up,” elise replied. “it will hurt for a while. i’m sorry, but julian’s right; if you were addicted to pain pills it’s better that you don’t have any and hurt for a while than get back on them.”
sydney nodded.
“thanks doc,” sark said. “always helpful.”
“of course. let’s get her to a bed,” elise replied.
“i can walk,” sydney said. “really, you don’t have to help me.”
“i happen to know that all of the bedrooms in this place are on the fifth floor, and we’re on the first. you aren’t going to make it up four flights of stairs,” she said. “julian and i will get you to one of the elevators, and i’ll help you change.”
“fine,” sydney sighed.
sark and elise helped her to her feet and to an elevator, though she stubbornly did most of it on her own.
“how did i not know you had elevators in here?” she asked as they were on their way up.
“knowing there are elevators encourages laziness. plus, there are no cameras in here and i didn’t trust you,” sark replied.
sydney got to her room, elise helped her change, and she collapsed into bed.
“that was a really s***ty thing to do sark,” she sighed.
“i told you to put the file down. you need to learn to listen,” he smirked.
“change the dressing once every two days. it should heal within a week or two. don’t let her practise her shot,” elise said.
“whatever you say doc,” sark smiled.
“you know you’re the only one who calls me that?” she asked.
he grinned. “that’s because most everyone else thinks you’re an investment analyst.”
“oh shut up, you know what i meant,” she giggled.
“go on, get outta here. i’m sure you’ve got places to be, boys to see,” sark teased.
elise blushed. “oh be quiet. be sure to change that dressing once every forty-eight hours.”
she left the room. sark looked at sydney. she rolled her eyes.
“have you f***ed her yet?” she asked.
“elise? no way. she’s my doctor on call,” he replied.
“yeah, you guys were also flirting like fourth graders,” sydney said.
“jealous, love?”
“i told you not to call me that,” she said.
“last time you said that, you ended up kissing me,” sark smirked.
“yeah well, i was losing a lot of blood. plus, it was just nice to feel again. don’t think it meant anything,” she replied.
“oh no, of course not. right, losing blood, that was it,” he was still smirking.
“get out. i need my rest.”
“yes, you wouldn’t want another mistake like that kiss to happen because you weren’t rested,” he chuckled. “night.”
he left, whistling to himself. he was on top of the world.
s***. sydney thought to herself. i am such a moron. why did i have to kiss him? she couldn’t pretend that feeling again wasn’t nice, nor could she pretend that the kiss wasn’t good, but it was a stupid thing to do. she couldn’t let him get to her. can’t let him get to me.


sorry guys but i didn't have time to get a p.m. out...i'll try to tomorrow. i've just been so majorly busy and have a research paper due tomorrow but i have spent more time on this than i have on the paper! gah!!! anyway, had to vent a little, hope you like. sorry about the lack of a p.m.

m-c
 
Eeeps....I came to AllAlias for the first time in months, and found that you've updated! :happydance: And it's great stuff too! Pure Sarkney... *sigh* I love it! Please pm me when you update!
 
Back
Top