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
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!
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!
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