AN: Listening to Roy Orbison sing his song, “Only the Lonely” the other night it made me think of a short story abut Jack. This is Jack’s story, not Irina, although certainly she plays a big part. This is a short, short story of a little over 1200 words. Enjoy.
SUMMARY: In the ruins of Sovogda, Jack told Irina to leave them and she could make it to the border by daylight. Surprised by his generosity, she leaned up and kissed him, smiling, then turned and disappeared.
RATING: G
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters that JJ Abrams created. I do own my own Alias characters.
ONLY THE LONELY
By Lenafan
Jack sat by himself on the plane back to Los Angeles. Sloane was under arrest and sat by a marshal. The medics were tending to Nadia. Vaughn was holding Sydney and they were talking softly, no doubt planning their wedding. He sighed. Wedding. He remembered his own wedding in 1971 and the ten years of marriage to Laura, no Irina, including the birth of their beautiful daughter. Those years were the happiest of his life.
He reached up and touched his lips. She kissed him and he could still feel her lips on his. He told her to go. He didn’t want to see her in prison for the rest of her life, especially not after she and Sydney had literally saved the world. Irina would always say it was Sydney, but the moment she told Sydney to cut the opposite wire from the one Elena told them was significant. None of them suspected she lied after being threatened by him to turn her into an animal as she had the Sovogdans. Irina knew her sister. She killed her, knowing she lied.
Therefore, he let her go. In his mind, she paid her dues to the men and women she assassinated. Their families and loved ones were safe now, as was the rest of the world. He leaned back against the bulkhead and closed his eyes. He could taste her. He could smell her. He loved her too long not to.
What he missed most was her being with him. It had been his secret agony for over twenty years. He hated her for what she did to him and Sydney, but the love he held for her in his heart had surfaced when she walked in to Langley.
“Dad,” Sydney stood in front of him. “Do you think they can find a cure for Nadia?”
“I hope so,” he said quietly. “For her and her mother’s sake.”
Sydney sat down next to him. “She didn’t have any time with her after all those missing years, did she?”
Jack shook his head, “No, but I wasn’t about to bring your mother back to the States after what she helped you do.”
Sydney kissed him on the cheek. “I love you, Dad. Thanks for letting Mom go.”
“You’re welcome. She earned it. You cut the wire, but she…” his eyes closed for a moment as he remembered the scene. Irina had not hesitated. She shot Elena and told Sydney the right wire to cut. “… She made the decision.”
Sydney put her arm around Jack’s shoulder. “She told me I wouldn’t see her at my wedding, but that she’d see me. I miss her already. I mean we never ever had a mother-daughter talk. I’ve seen her this time for total of what—four, five days and now she’s gone again.”
“She didn’t abandon you, Sydney, you know that.”
“I know. I’ve thought about moving to Moscow, just to have a chance to see and talk to her. However Vaughn vetoed that.” She laughed and then stood up. “We want to get married in Santa Barbara.”
“Anything you decide, sweetheart, is fine by me.”
Operating on adrenalin charged energy, it was a let down when Jack finally stepped off the plane. He took the van to APO’s garage facility then, instead of going into the headquarters, he went directly to his car and drove away without saying a word. Sydney and Vaughn watched him go.
“I think he misses her already.”
“Your mother?” Vaughn said. He thought for a moment about the short conversation that they had had while cutting the brake lines on the subway.
Sydney nodded.
Jack parked his car in the driveway. He entered the house, tossing his keys on the kitchen bar. Almost without stopping, he went to the cupboard where he kept his Chivas Regal and glasses. He poured himself half a tumbler. He turned no lights on as he dropped down into his lounge chair still wearing the clothes he’d worn to Sovogda. He was tired. He refused to go to APO and face Director Chase. He did not want to face that challenge until tomorrow.
He drank quietly, his thoughts on his wife. He still had not divorced her nor had the marriage annulled. Jack was sure she thought he had. Still…he finished the tumbler of Scotch, got up, and went back to the bottle sitting on the counter. He poured another glass and returned to the chair.
Sighing, he put his feet up on the stool near by. By God he was tired…he did not want to admit it, and lonely. He was fifty-five and alone, more so now that Sydney was going to marry Vaughn. Sloane, a friend of over thirty years, was on his way to prison, although both Jack and Sydney felt he had tried to do the right thing. He shot Nadia to save, in a sense, the world, allowing Sydney to complete the job. Even Nadia was lost to them. Infected with the water by Elena, she had turned into a zombie like the Sovogdans.
Jack blinked as he remembered something Irina said when they were discussing the terms of her going with them.
He said, “You’ll enjoy getting to know Nadia. She’s exceptional.”
Irina responded enigmatically, “I wonder who she gets that from?”
Now what the hell did that mean? Damn her, she was impossible some times. She loved to play games. He wonders if this was one of them…or had it been her ego? He sipped his Chivas and rubbed his eyes with his left hand. His leaned his head back, closing his eyes.
“Hello, Jack.” Irina’s face was close to him. She brushed his lips with hers. “Scotch? I’ll bet it’s probably Chivas.”
“Irina, what are you doing here?”
“I knew you’d be lonely tonight. Sydney and Agent Vaughn are getting married, are they not?” She smiled, patting his cheek lightly, and then sat on his lap, staring up at him.
“Thanks, I am and they are.” He toasted her with his drink. “To you Irina for a job well done. You repaid those outstanding debts.”
“What?” She looked puzzled. “Cryptic as always.”
“To the men and women you murdered those many years ago…their families are safe because of you.”
“It was my job, Jack. I’ve told you before.”
“Damn it, Irina, why are you so damned stubborn?”
She laughed that deep-throated laugh of hers and then rested her head on his shoulder. How many times when they were married, would she come and sit on his lap at the end of the day. He reached up stroking her hair.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“It’s the same with me, Jack. It has never changed.” She stood, holding her hand out for his. “Let’s go to bed.”
Jack stood up finishing the drink. Setting the glass down, he put his arms around her and held her, feeling the warmth of her body, the feel of every curve... every part of her.
Tears formed in his eyes, as he knew he was dreaming or maybe hallucinating. She wasn’t here with him. Irina Derevko was thousands of miles away, making her way to Moscow hopefully without running into trouble. It was, however, what he wanted, what he needed He knew it was impossible to think about—to even wish for—to have her as his wife again.
That would never happen, he thought and his heart ached as he went up the stairs, another drink in hand, to spend the night in bed alone…again.
FINI
AN: So many wanted an Epilogue, I decided to write a short one. This does tie into the larger story in the RC-17 section called The Soul of Irina Derevko. If you are old enough to read it there, go and read. It’s long, but detailed about Irina and her life, including the terrors of Kashmir.
EPILOGUE
Jack stared at his daughter, lying in her hospital bed. He had been called to the Cottage Hospital in Santa Barbara where she and Vaughn had been taken after the accident. Vaughn was in far worse shape than she was. He was in a coma. The doctors were not sure how soon he would come out of it.
Sydney’s doctors told him that, basically, she was fine, other than the concussion she also sustained. They also told him she was pregnant and possibly only a month or two along. The main problem seemed to be her memory. She didn’t remember anything at all. She told the doctors that she and her mother were supposed to go shopping for school clothes to wear.
“What are you talking about,” said Jack, his eyes widening.
“Mr. Bristow, as far as we can judge, your daughter has regressed to the age of six. She may snap out of it at anytime, but she could stay six for a long time.”
“What can I do?”
“You and your wife are going to have to treat her mental age she is now, six.”
Jack blinked. “My wife?”
“Of course, her mother…” The doctor looked at him puzzled. “Is there something wrong?”
“…er, she’s dead…accident…” Jack was fumbling for the words needed.
“Then get a woman who can pretend to be your wife?”
“Yes…well, I might have the perfect one.” He stood watching Sydney who was sleeping and his mind flew to Moscow. It had been week since Sovogda. Was Irina home yet? He knew it would take three days to go, talk her into coming, and make sure she would be safe.
He wondered what she would say when he told her he resigned from the CIA and APO. He had been an agent for thirty-five years. It was time to leave.
He did not want to be lonely any more.
SUMMARY: In the ruins of Sovogda, Jack told Irina to leave them and she could make it to the border by daylight. Surprised by his generosity, she leaned up and kissed him, smiling, then turned and disappeared.
RATING: G
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters that JJ Abrams created. I do own my own Alias characters.
ONLY THE LONELY
By Lenafan
Jack sat by himself on the plane back to Los Angeles. Sloane was under arrest and sat by a marshal. The medics were tending to Nadia. Vaughn was holding Sydney and they were talking softly, no doubt planning their wedding. He sighed. Wedding. He remembered his own wedding in 1971 and the ten years of marriage to Laura, no Irina, including the birth of their beautiful daughter. Those years were the happiest of his life.
He reached up and touched his lips. She kissed him and he could still feel her lips on his. He told her to go. He didn’t want to see her in prison for the rest of her life, especially not after she and Sydney had literally saved the world. Irina would always say it was Sydney, but the moment she told Sydney to cut the opposite wire from the one Elena told them was significant. None of them suspected she lied after being threatened by him to turn her into an animal as she had the Sovogdans. Irina knew her sister. She killed her, knowing she lied.
Therefore, he let her go. In his mind, she paid her dues to the men and women she assassinated. Their families and loved ones were safe now, as was the rest of the world. He leaned back against the bulkhead and closed his eyes. He could taste her. He could smell her. He loved her too long not to.
What he missed most was her being with him. It had been his secret agony for over twenty years. He hated her for what she did to him and Sydney, but the love he held for her in his heart had surfaced when she walked in to Langley.
“Dad,” Sydney stood in front of him. “Do you think they can find a cure for Nadia?”
“I hope so,” he said quietly. “For her and her mother’s sake.”
Sydney sat down next to him. “She didn’t have any time with her after all those missing years, did she?”
Jack shook his head, “No, but I wasn’t about to bring your mother back to the States after what she helped you do.”
Sydney kissed him on the cheek. “I love you, Dad. Thanks for letting Mom go.”
“You’re welcome. She earned it. You cut the wire, but she…” his eyes closed for a moment as he remembered the scene. Irina had not hesitated. She shot Elena and told Sydney the right wire to cut. “… She made the decision.”
Sydney put her arm around Jack’s shoulder. “She told me I wouldn’t see her at my wedding, but that she’d see me. I miss her already. I mean we never ever had a mother-daughter talk. I’ve seen her this time for total of what—four, five days and now she’s gone again.”
“She didn’t abandon you, Sydney, you know that.”
“I know. I’ve thought about moving to Moscow, just to have a chance to see and talk to her. However Vaughn vetoed that.” She laughed and then stood up. “We want to get married in Santa Barbara.”
“Anything you decide, sweetheart, is fine by me.”
Operating on adrenalin charged energy, it was a let down when Jack finally stepped off the plane. He took the van to APO’s garage facility then, instead of going into the headquarters, he went directly to his car and drove away without saying a word. Sydney and Vaughn watched him go.
“I think he misses her already.”
“Your mother?” Vaughn said. He thought for a moment about the short conversation that they had had while cutting the brake lines on the subway.
Sydney nodded.
Jack parked his car in the driveway. He entered the house, tossing his keys on the kitchen bar. Almost without stopping, he went to the cupboard where he kept his Chivas Regal and glasses. He poured himself half a tumbler. He turned no lights on as he dropped down into his lounge chair still wearing the clothes he’d worn to Sovogda. He was tired. He refused to go to APO and face Director Chase. He did not want to face that challenge until tomorrow.
He drank quietly, his thoughts on his wife. He still had not divorced her nor had the marriage annulled. Jack was sure she thought he had. Still…he finished the tumbler of Scotch, got up, and went back to the bottle sitting on the counter. He poured another glass and returned to the chair.
Sighing, he put his feet up on the stool near by. By God he was tired…he did not want to admit it, and lonely. He was fifty-five and alone, more so now that Sydney was going to marry Vaughn. Sloane, a friend of over thirty years, was on his way to prison, although both Jack and Sydney felt he had tried to do the right thing. He shot Nadia to save, in a sense, the world, allowing Sydney to complete the job. Even Nadia was lost to them. Infected with the water by Elena, she had turned into a zombie like the Sovogdans.
Jack blinked as he remembered something Irina said when they were discussing the terms of her going with them.
He said, “You’ll enjoy getting to know Nadia. She’s exceptional.”
Irina responded enigmatically, “I wonder who she gets that from?”
Now what the hell did that mean? Damn her, she was impossible some times. She loved to play games. He wonders if this was one of them…or had it been her ego? He sipped his Chivas and rubbed his eyes with his left hand. His leaned his head back, closing his eyes.
“Hello, Jack.” Irina’s face was close to him. She brushed his lips with hers. “Scotch? I’ll bet it’s probably Chivas.”
“Irina, what are you doing here?”
“I knew you’d be lonely tonight. Sydney and Agent Vaughn are getting married, are they not?” She smiled, patting his cheek lightly, and then sat on his lap, staring up at him.
“Thanks, I am and they are.” He toasted her with his drink. “To you Irina for a job well done. You repaid those outstanding debts.”
“What?” She looked puzzled. “Cryptic as always.”
“To the men and women you murdered those many years ago…their families are safe because of you.”
“It was my job, Jack. I’ve told you before.”
“Damn it, Irina, why are you so damned stubborn?”
She laughed that deep-throated laugh of hers and then rested her head on his shoulder. How many times when they were married, would she come and sit on his lap at the end of the day. He reached up stroking her hair.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“It’s the same with me, Jack. It has never changed.” She stood, holding her hand out for his. “Let’s go to bed.”
Jack stood up finishing the drink. Setting the glass down, he put his arms around her and held her, feeling the warmth of her body, the feel of every curve... every part of her.
Tears formed in his eyes, as he knew he was dreaming or maybe hallucinating. She wasn’t here with him. Irina Derevko was thousands of miles away, making her way to Moscow hopefully without running into trouble. It was, however, what he wanted, what he needed He knew it was impossible to think about—to even wish for—to have her as his wife again.
That would never happen, he thought and his heart ached as he went up the stairs, another drink in hand, to spend the night in bed alone…again.
FINI
AN: So many wanted an Epilogue, I decided to write a short one. This does tie into the larger story in the RC-17 section called The Soul of Irina Derevko. If you are old enough to read it there, go and read. It’s long, but detailed about Irina and her life, including the terrors of Kashmir.
EPILOGUE
Jack stared at his daughter, lying in her hospital bed. He had been called to the Cottage Hospital in Santa Barbara where she and Vaughn had been taken after the accident. Vaughn was in far worse shape than she was. He was in a coma. The doctors were not sure how soon he would come out of it.
Sydney’s doctors told him that, basically, she was fine, other than the concussion she also sustained. They also told him she was pregnant and possibly only a month or two along. The main problem seemed to be her memory. She didn’t remember anything at all. She told the doctors that she and her mother were supposed to go shopping for school clothes to wear.
“What are you talking about,” said Jack, his eyes widening.
“Mr. Bristow, as far as we can judge, your daughter has regressed to the age of six. She may snap out of it at anytime, but she could stay six for a long time.”
“What can I do?”
“You and your wife are going to have to treat her mental age she is now, six.”
Jack blinked. “My wife?”
“Of course, her mother…” The doctor looked at him puzzled. “Is there something wrong?”
“…er, she’s dead…accident…” Jack was fumbling for the words needed.
“Then get a woman who can pretend to be your wife?”
“Yes…well, I might have the perfect one.” He stood watching Sydney who was sleeping and his mind flew to Moscow. It had been week since Sovogda. Was Irina home yet? He knew it would take three days to go, talk her into coming, and make sure she would be safe.
He wondered what she would say when he told her he resigned from the CIA and APO. He had been an agent for thirty-five years. It was time to leave.
He did not want to be lonely any more.