SEQUEL- The Ripple Effect

Here we go
I am starting with vaughn and will add in irinas journal and interactions between all the main charracters in an epilogue/sequel.
diclaimer applies
any and all alias characters belong to JJ and ABC and I am just writing a fan fic.
if any events seem similar to any other fan fics it is not intentional- I have been reading a lot of them and writing a lot.
Brenda


Part 1 - Vaughn

I am in shock
I can’t breathe
I should have guessed this could happen but still--

She is home here in LA at her fathers’ apartment and he thankfully has gone out so Syd can talk to me about something important. And it’s horrible. She was raped and it is on discs. There is actual footage of what happened to her.
Her dad didn’t tell her about that at first but he did two days ago and she has been afraid to tell me because she is worried I will not want her anymore. My ass kicking fairy princess is a normal woman with the same fears as anyone who has been sexually assaulted.

"Hi my name is Michael Vaughn I am engaged to be married- my fiancée yeah she is 26 almost 27 with auburn brown hair gorgeous deep brown eyes skin clear and ivory soap pure – classically beautiful and cute as a button. She is sweet thoughtful, emotional, sexy oh and yeah she is an internationally renowned spy who gets the crap kicked out of her on a weekly basis and she was missing for 5 weeks and when we found her she had been tortured and raped and she almost died
So what does your fiancé do bob?"

I imagine this ridiculous cocktail party conversation and I can’t even picture the reality of it.

I can’t breathe – she is sitting here in front of me- still bruised and battered- well less bruised but I can see the ghosts of them on her face.
I love her with all my heart and what I have been learning about her time as a hostage scares the hell out of me- they can’t catch this bastard fast enough for me

She is crying – I reach out and hold her

I am crying too.

When you love somebody it kills you when they are hurting.
This fiancée of mine has had one crazy life- KGB mother, CIA father- a mom presumed dead when she was 6 – her dad disappearing out of her life for all those years and then her becoming a member of what she thinks of the CIA only it’s the enemy and then she becomes a double agent. With the real CIA

We were just supposed to be agent and handler but how could I not love, honour and respect a woman like Sydney Bristow. It is like there is no one else in the room when she is there. I want her to smile I want her to be safe. I want to marry her,I want to take away the pain. But I can’t. I can show her that I love her. I can try and make sure her future is safer and happier than her past but there are no guarantees.

So we huddle together for a while and then I hear words coming out of my mouth

“Sydney – I want you to get therapy for this OK I want to help you deal with this and I still want to touch you and love you but only when you are ready. You can be angry and you can withdraw but I am never leaving you-

"Maybe I can’t understand rape because I am a man so I won’t pretend to.
but I will listen and I will marry you in 6 months and I will love you and worry about you and care about your feelings.

Your dad was in chaos while you were missing

Sydney, My life was a held breath all those weeks

I cannot live fully without you.

I didn’t realize that I was incomplete until I met you"

She nods at me and then she tells me she feels the same way but right now can she have a few minutes alone.
I don’t take it personally- she has a lot to process and she can trust my love

Besides I need to talk to Weiss anyway
I am not going to freak her out by unloading all of my fear and anger on her

That’s how friends and lovers work- we all support one another like dominoes until the last one to fall is the least affected by it and yet is the one able to stop the whole torrent of problems. Syd talks to me I talk to Weiss and he talks to – well I don’t know who he talks to but slowly the ripples become less violent and more calm as the news spreads.

Sydney I love you I say and I kiss her and tell her I will call her tomorrow morning
I leave the apartment and find Jack Bristow sitting on his front stoop- he didn’t go very far at all he is very protective of his daughter these days.

I can’t blame him.
I feel very protective of his daughter too.

aw so sad, why? well it is very good and i'm glad you posted the sequel andplease pm me when you update as always, I really can't wait to find out what happens next. and jack on the front steps,lol,didn't see that one coming.

So cute. Excellect start

The Ripple Effect-

disclaimer still applies

Part 2- Jack POV

My daughter is home . I brought her back to our old family home after her week’s stay in the hospital in Rio. She has been in her old room for 3 weeks now and it is amazing to me that she has been back from this ordeal for as long as she was missing. She is physically safe for now and I am so thankful that she made it through because it would have killed me to lose her. I finally got the chance to tell her how much I love her – to talk about our past -why I abandoned her. So I suppose if you could argue that every cloud has a silver lining this development would be ours.

However the price she had to pay was far too high.

My little girl was beaten, tortured, raped- held hostage in the most awful conditions for weeks. 5 weeks- 35 days 14 hours and 47 minutes. Realistically however, despite her strength, despite her recovery – I know that experience will haunt her forever. I can see it in her eyes- there is a new layer to her normally cheery soulful coffee coloured irises.

There is a loss there- not one she will really acknowledge. She has a journal from her mother and I hope she has started to read it. I have no idea what is in there but Irina was so insistent she have it that I hope it helps . However the contents have me worried about Irina. I know her time here as Laura and her subsequent disappearance and “death’ was a lot more complicated than she ever had the chance to reveal to me. I will admit that I am worried about that. Did I give up on my wife when she needed me the most? While I stayed here feeling betrayed what exactly was Laura going through?

I know I love my wife and I want her home here with me- in our house. I have learned that pride is my greatest fault and I am ashamed of how my pride determined my reactions to both my wife and daughter over the last 20 odd years. I do not deserve their love or their forgiveness and yet both of them seem to want me around. Sydney told me she considers me a hero- a friend,a brave man and the only father she would ever want. I was bowled over by that revelation and I still can't wuite figure out what to do with this information. My daughter is proud of me. No one has ever ben proud of me.
Maybe I did something good for my little girl but for the life of me I can’t think of anything except her life prior to her 7 th birthday and the way I stayed with her at the hospital in Rio.

Irina told me she was worried about me. I will admit only to myself that that feels – wonderful somehow- that this incredible woman loves me and worries about me.

Doe she know that I have forgiven her? That I worry about her? That right now I have no idea where she is or what she is doing and the thought that she could be hurting in any way scares me? Is it foolish of me to care so much? A man is supposed to be measured by his strength his stoicism. Or so I always thought. Perhaps this is how men measure other men – but I am slowly clumsily learning that women measure a man by his ability to show his emotion to support his family. His capacity to love. I am not quite sure how to be this man but apparently I had it in me before and still have it in me now.

If it has anything to do with the amount of tears any man sheds I know I have won this competition. I cannot describe the utter abject terror I felt to learn that my Sydney was missing and then to see how badly she was hurt. She almost died in my arms and her strength and will to pull through when the pain was absolutely overwhelming--- well I better not go there right now or dinner won’t get made and I promised Sydney her favourite – spaghetti with garlic breadsticks. Homemade. And then after dinner I have to go to my least favourite thing in the world. Therapy. With Dr. Barnett. As sydney would say "That sucks" Inever liked that espression but tonight I certainly understand it.

Everyone says therapy is not a punishment for being a bad father but to me it is worse than having to gag down some god awful concoction like they do in those ridiculous reality TV shows. However I know I deserve punishment for my neglect so it means I have to go “spill my guts” as agent Weiss puts it. Well if this therapy helps Sydney and Irina in any way then I will swallow my humiliation and go. If however it’s sole pupose is to permanently embarrass me- well perhaps I should concede that they have succeeded. I can feel my face and ears reddening just thinking about it and of course here comes Sydney -

“MM dad is that “ her eyes widen as she takes in my appearance.

I am thankful the water for the pasta is boiling so I can use the excuse that my face is beet red form the cooking.

However my genius knows better. She grins and asks me what time therapy is tonight.
I ignore her query and ask if she can set the table. She is on crutches for part of the day but she is supposed to be working on her mobility.

Thankfully she seems to decide to let me be- and she grabs two plates two glasses and other assorted items needed for the table.

She makes it to the table and everything is going well until I hear a glass break and a crash

I race over to the table- she slipped and she fell- she is lying in glass shards

I picker her up and help her brush the glass from her sweater and her hair

“Honey are you all right?”
She grimaces

“Yeah I just put too much weight on my leg- big clutz I know”

I know she is upset more then she lets on and I grab both of her shoulders- “Sydney- you are expecting too much of yourself- too soon. The fact that you can walk at all right now is amazing.” I kiss her forehead gently- my heart is so full of love for her.
"Dad I am going to need two glasses and another plate to finish this job." She turns and hobbles back to the kitchen.

I am so thankful for her strength. She gets that from her mother- and from some reserve within herself – it gives me hope. Hope for Sydney’s recovery and hope that Irina will soon contact me. Hope that I make it thorugh therapy without losing control

**************************
hope you liked part 2 here is more

Part 3- Sydney POV

VICTIM. I am supposed to be a victim and I don’t like that title at ALL
I am a fighter, a survivor, a woman, a daughter, a person, a fiancée an agent for the CIA but I am not a VICTIM.

So why am I crying myself to sleep all the time? Why am I afraid to sleep in the dark? Why do I not want Vaughn or my dad to know how terrified I am?
Why don’t I want to know how terrified I am?

Its been 3 months since I was a hostage in Brazil and now all the bruises and small breaks are gone. It's January now- I still limp on my one leg- because the hip was weakened by the bullet, the leg fracture and the infection. Doctor says I can start training again soon and I am glad because I want to feel in control again. But I am also not ready to face training- I am scared I won't be good enough anymore. What if I start crying if I am punched? I want to sleep in the dark and not be afraid to go on my next mission. I want to write down my thoughts but what if someone finds them and uses my own words against me? What if my dad finds out how I feel? He’ll be more worrid than he already is. He has grown and changed so much – and I am definitely glad that we are really close right now- maybe I should tell him. He says he wants to know the scary stuff, maybe he can handle it.

“daddy” I knock on his study door

“come in” inside I am transported to my childhood
the mahogany furniture- the glass of scotch on his desk as he sits reading over some sort of a report –

What's different is the way he looks at me now- his eyes look so much like mine – round and brown and comforting – his eyes looked closed off and glazed for so many years I forgot that they weren’t ice blue- that my dad and I share the same eyes. Now we both share a fear. Maybe I shouldn’t tell him. But looking at him – he is coming around the desk now and he picks me up like he did when I was 5 years old and he sits back in his chair with me on his lap.

“sweetheart – talk to me Please”

and somehow it all comes pouring out- and I am crying and burying my face in his neck –

he is so strong and silent and he feels so safe to be with.

When all that is left is the sound of my sobbing- he lifts up my face and with his handkerchief he wipes away my tears.

“Sydney- I am glad you told me. I am here for you. You may think you are all grown up but guess what – sometimes you need your dad regardless of how many candles are on your birthday cake. I don’t think you are a victim. I think you have been hurt and you are scared with good reason. Do you know how many woman- how many people can handle even 1 % of your life? Less than a thousand Sydney- and tht is world wide out of how many billion? You are intelligent kind and very well skilled at survival." He shudders a little- and continues “ that skill you have terrifies me and fills me with pride at the same time. If you were anybody but Sydney Bristow you would have died in that hellhole."

You got out honey and I think with a little time and therapy- you will be stronger for this experience.

Then he gets all tough on me.

Get up and he pushes me out of his lap.

He stands and takes away my crutch. He then leaves the room and turns out the light.

I am going to bed Sydney. You can stay there in the study or you can find your way up to bed.

I stand still frozen – scared." Daddy come back " I yell- "daddy I can’t walk yet
Daddy its dark please turn on the lights please"

But he doesn’t and after a few minutes of my tantrum he can be heard banging around in the kitchen. Only his reflection in the window shows his tears. Only his heart knows how badly he wants to come the dark and pull me out. But because he loves me he lets me figure out that I can do this. That I can stop screaming and get angry- get aware make myself move to the door and open it- limp up the stairs to my room whenre there is a light I can turn on. Exhausted I fall onto my bed and pull the blanket up to my chin and I dry my tears on my pajama sleeve and close my eyes.

I don’t even hear his footsteps at my door I don’t see him lean against the door jamb and watch me sleep-

I do however feel safe as I drift off. Not like a victim but like me. at least a little bit


Part 4

I had lots of time yesterda becasue I was home sick and my internet connection was cut due to some construction beign done inmy neighbourhood - so i went into word and wrote. That's why you are getting so much rright now.
feedback please!!!

Disclaimer still applies JJ abrams you are amazing

Jack and Vaughn

"She needs to get back to work tomorrow"

"Why jack? So she can get killed?"
he winces a little and I know I am out of line and irrational but I think as long as she is home with her dad in her old room she is safe.

"Michael-" he sighs. " I called Yoav and tomorrow I need you to pick her up after her training session. She isn’t going to want to talk to me after I drop her off tomorrow morning and I need your help. She needs to fight."

“and get the crap beaten out of her”? Micheal looks at me incredulously.


“yes “– I croak " Because until she does she will be stuck in her fear."
God being a father is tough. being Sydney Bristow

Jack hadn’t yet decided what he would do if saw another bruise or cut on Sydneys face but he would have to deal with it. Because she needed to get herself moving again and for Sydney that meant back at the CIA back in danger.

Vaughn finally understood and relented

“Jack we are both going to be called all sorts of new colourful names tomorrow"

“I can take it” snapped jack “if it means we get Sydney back I can handle her anger"

“I am not as brave as you Jack’ she is gonna throw that ring right back at me.

“then pick it up and hold onto it”

************************

Part 5

Sydney Bristow stood in the training gym her body drenched in sweat. She couldn’t see that her moves were being watched by her very worried father and equally worried fiancé. All she knew was that Yoav did not care what she had been through and he was determined to beat the snot out of her

He was exasperated that her body had deteriorated.

She snapped back that she had been a hostage chained to a wall for 5 weeks and then in a hospital and then on bed rest. With a broken femur. In fact until two days ago she had been on crutches -thank you very much.

He didn’t care. He was jabbing and kicking and knocking her on her ass every single time.

Sydney made a mental note to kill both Jack and Vaughn if she survived this stupid session. In fact she would refuse to put on any sort of cover up at all. Let them see that she now again had a puffed up cheek and a fat lip and god knows whatever else. She was amgry and childish and she did not care. it wasn't often that she allowed herlsef to behave truly bratty and today she was in pain and grouchy and determined to be 5 years old.

Upstairs Vaugh couldn’t take anymore and he walked away to commiserate with Weiss.
Jack sighed and shifted his weight. He knew this could backfire. He knew everyone thought he was crazy for throwing his daughter into this arena. He was just praying his gut instinct was right and she would one day thank him for it. He had also made a note to make her acknowledge her mothers journal- which had been taunting him from her nightstand for weeks now- untouched. Sydney did not want to open it – and Jack had not wanted to push the issue but he sensed Irina could help their daughter. To Jack those unread words were as intoxicating as a freshly pressed national enquirer was to the trailer park set. He had never wanted to snoop so badly in his life. He had picked up the book and opened the cover and read the introduction page.

"This diary belongs to Irina Natalia Derevko -- March 1962- on the occasion of her 13th birthday.. " that was all the page said and Jack had recognized and traced the familiar handwriting lovingly with his index finger. The script was not yet as strong or as settled as that of Laura Bristows or of the adult Irina- but he could see even in the 13 year old hand this pen would have had quite an opinion about its subjects- and he was breathless with anticpation about the young woman his wife had been. But he would not- could not open past that page.

2 hours had passed and Yoav finally decided that Sydney had had enough for day 1.
"See you here tomorrow at 8 am. - and be better prepared ms bristow"

In the car jack could not get her to talk to him. He was driving her home becaus eSydney had told vaughn to stay the hell out of her sight. Despite his preparation for the sight of her after this workout he was still forcing himself to not reach out and touch her battered face and bloodied knuckles. He could tell by the way she was sitting that her leg and her butt were also killing her- and he silently pleaded to the powers above to guide his daughter to healing- inner healing would yield the inner strength she was losing grip on- and he knew that without that she was as good as dead- regardless if she returned to the CIA or went to work as a produce girl at the local supermarket. if only slaone had never recruited her-- but he couldn't allow himslef to go there. It was truth and his dreams were but fiction.

Ah a modicum of relief when despite the way she had to be feeling she stomped out of the car and with her nose in the air she grabbed her gym bag and flounced into the house ahead of him. When he entered he could hear the shower being turned on and noted that when she wanted to those stairs could be mastered in seconds. He grinned a little and steeled himself for tough love part 3. He also noted that ever since he had left her in the dark in his study on Tuesday evening she had stopped confiding in him and had not hugged him. Well damnit – he reasoned- what did all those parenting books say be a parent first not a friend?
he hung up his jacket and loosend his tie. Jack strongly suspected all the declarations of love and bravery and heroism were now replaced with four letter words he would want to wash her mouth out for saying. But today it could slide. He would get Sydney well.

He gave her an hour and then he took a deep breath and ventured to her bedroom door – ready to be JACK BRISTOW and not Daddy.

Sydney-he knocked once and then opened the door. She was laying face down on the bed- glaring off into space. He flipped the journal off of her dresser and tossed it onto the bed.

I suggest you read that if you expect to eat dinner tonight.- or watch that ridiculous show survivor. He turned tail and left- moderately surprised that she had yet to tell him to drop dead. She was almost 27 and not some teenager he could boss around.

Perhaps because they had never had that relationship she was as surprised as he was and felt that she needed to listen. He couldn’t wait until she felt confident enough to tell him to drop dead and then kick him to the curb as she moved back to her apartment, Vaughn and her life without father, That girl at least would be alive inside.

Upstairs Sydney conceded defeat. She was sore, she was scared and her father and Vaughn had both betrayed her. Francie was never coming home she pouted. Knowing full well that Francie was in France- Paris actually- training to be a better restauranteur. So she was stuck her at her old childhood home- apparently "grounded" until she read that journal. fine. I hate mom so i'll skim this dumb thing and get it over with.

Mentally she thought – hmm ok dad would you like an essay on how to be a defiant daughter to go with my book report on this damn journal?

She flipped open the book and began to force herself to read.

She did not notice that warden Bristow had snuck back upstairs to peek in and see what she was doing – she did not see his face break into a proud and relieved smile and she did not know that he went downstairs and began to prepare a pizza-one of her favourite meals.
**********************************

Part 6

The journal and the daughter


I wrote this in english because 1) I don't speak russian and 2) we can all pretend that we are reading russian instead of english

"undefined
My name is Irina Natalia Derevko and I am 13 years old today. I am now officially no longer a child. My sister Alessandra gave you to me little book- and I like that I have a place to tell the truth about my feelings. I only hope I do not leave you somewhere before mother and father to find you or my secrets and my womanhood will be no more. Ahh I wish could say I was joking but I cannot trust you just yet diary. I have only known you a short time. I must go and do my chores now. I cannot wait until I am 16 like Alessandra and able to marry and leave this place. I feel sorry for Pietrov and Nadianna. They are only children and when I am gone there will be no one to protect them. But they probably don't need my help. Mama and Papa love tehm and they love alessandra but for some reason - they do not want me.

May 1st 1962

Today is May day and I hope Viktor asks me to dance at the maypole festival tonight. If mama will allow me to go. And if I can dance tonight. I am still so sore from my punishment last Saturday. I was reading a book- an American novel "gone with the wind"- and papa asked me to go to town and pick him up some cigarettes and vodka. I asked if I could go after lunch because I was tired from all the chores of the morning and I was enjoying my book.

Papa said I sass him and I got angry. Diary I will admit I have a temper and it causes me a lot of trouble. Like with papa and mama. Papa took off his belt and whipped me until I cried. Regretfully I am also stubborn and I would not cry so of course my ass – yes I can say ass in ths book because you are for my eyes only – my ASS was black and blue and bleeding. Papa knew he could not hit me in the face again so soon or the school mistress will become suspicious. So instead he made me sit on the hard stool after my whipping. I had to stay there all day and I was in tears by the time they let me go to bed. It was like this all day Sunday too. Mama made me write lines – I had to write 500 times that I was wrong to talk back to them. I bit my tongue diary and I finished my punishment because I am learning that I must put up with this for a while longer. There has been a lot of hurting in my life already and I know there will be much more. I am an unwanted, but they are stuck with me until I am fisnished school. or until they throw me out into the street. I could not be a prostitute and what good at anyhting elkse would i be? I am good in bed my papa says. he sasy I make a good whore.

I am not beautiful like allessandra- not a son like pietrov and not a baby like nadianna
I am Irina. Plain Irina who shames her family with her stubbornness and her desire to run and jump and read and express my opinion.




May 3rd 1962

DairI have to put you away for a while. I must hide you because it pains me to look at you
Mama caught me writing in you and she read everything aloud to papa yesterday,

I was thankfully allowed to go to the dance and viktor kissed me and told me he was leaving ofr kiev this summer- he has anexciting new positon in the military and the government. Somethng to do with defending mother Russia agains the Americans.
My first kis form a man who is not my father my first kiss that I wanted.

I wish I could do something important for my country but I know papa will keep me hereon the fram until he no longer needs me and then iw ill be to old and ugly to be of any use to anyone

Back to yesterday. They have allowed me to keep you but at a price. They cut my hair and they burned my lips so I could not hope to ever be beautiful or to speak my thoughts aloud. Diary I will keep you safe but I cannot confide in you for a while – I need to have a day where I am not the subject of mama and papa’s eyes or their hands. I cannot swallow anyhting my lips hurt so much. stil tonight I will have to kiss papa and satisfy him. I wish I had never been born.
But since i am here I can dream
Someday diary I do not know how but someday irina derevko will be special to someone.
I have decided that one person on this earth must want an opinionated interested stubborn woman. I pray one day I can have a bath every day without papa touching me or watching me. I want to have good food and warm clothing and a home of myown. I will fill it with books. Maybe one day I can teach like Mrs Krabinski.


March 1963

Diary I am free I cannot give all the details now but you are mine again and I am free. I am on a train headed to kiev. I will never see this god forsaken place again.

Oh I must tell you I am going to serve Mother Russia
Mrs Krabinski saw me last month after papa had hurt me again. I was bleeding from my private place and it was not my time. I had put a towel in my skirt but it must have slipped and I started bleeding on my legs. My professor is very intelligent. She can know what my life is like without asking me to betray any family secrets. She helped me by sneaking me to her doctor.

Mrs Krabinski told me that with her husbands help- if I could pack a small bag with some clothes and some food and if I could keep my hair short like a boy she could smuggle me to Kiev and into the KGB. I am supposed to be 16 to serve in the militia and 18 to actually join but she says these are the official rules. That if I prove myself I will be given a job.

Mr Krabinski tells me it will be dangerous and that I could be hurt or killed but Diary I do not care. Tonight papa cannot touch me and mama cannot hate me and Alessandra cannot mock me and Piotr and Nadianna will be safe.

I have my book gone with the wind I have my pencil I have you and my cap and my old coat and my boots and some undergarments and stockings. I even have a few roubles to live on while I make this journey.

No one will know who I am or what I will do except you and me diary. In 3 days I will be 14..undefined


Sydney closed the little book horrified and enlightened by her mothers penmanship. Her mother had endured hell from he own family for years and she thought her salvation would be a grunt job with the KGB. Sydney knew she had had some rough times but she had never feared that Jack or Irina would abuse her. She had counted on school and new clothes and books and food and respect. She had been punished as a child but as she remembered from her conversation with her father no one had spanked her. She had been yelled at occaisionally sent to her room or asked to write an essay explainig how her behaviour was wrong. To be honest she had learned a lot from these essays over the years. Inspired she located a pencil and piece of foolscap and began writing.

Sydney began to see her Mom as a person a confused, scared and willful little girl. She remembered that when she had last seen derevko those qualities had still been present. Just presented differently. Suddenly she felt less frightened and less alone. She looked at her bruises in the mirror and brushed her hair into a ponytail. She brought the little book downstairs. She was certain her mother would accept that she was reading the book with her father, together they could learn from it and she could heal and she suspected that her father needed these words to heal his own pain. Maybe Mom would feel better too havng her family know the truth about her.

Jack looked up from the table as Sydney entered the kitchen and wordlessly laid the book by his plate. The foolscap she placed in his hands

“dad I wrote this for you- the theme is Sydney is a spoiled brat. I am sure you will find it amusing. If you think I left anything out I can no doubt find many many examples to add to it. “

I think Mom would want you to read to where I have left the bookmark. I’ll go wait in the study and you can let me know if I can have any of that pizza – and if I can watch tv tonight.

Dryly she added- I know I am 26 but if you told me to go to my room and stay there for about a week I would. I am sorry Dad. Thanks for putting up with me.


Jack had never been more relieved in his life. His daughter was coming back to life.
He held the small book in his hands and whispered “Thank you Irina”


Part 7

father and daughter

Sydney and Jack finshed their dinner and the retired to the den to watch TV.

Sydney was glad her father had accepted her apology- and just like old times he had taken her essay and put it on the fridge with an old magnet. She had blushed to the roots of her hair but her father was entitled to his moment of triumph.

Jack allowed Sydney to lay on the couch and place her head in his lap- and he ran his fingers through her hair- admiring how shiny it was now that she was healthy again.

No too long ago it had been so dirty and dry and repulsive to touch. She had been that malnourished, now the hair was shiny and smelled like apples.


Sydney- when you and Vaughn have children

Strarled she choked and turned to look at him "Dad? Please you want grandchildren?"

He nodded and continued-"I hope you are as lucky as I am."

It took her a second to catch the compliment and she rewarded him with a trademark Sydney grin. "Dad- survivor starts in 5 mins OK and then I have to get to bed because I have a feeling Yoav is gonna kick my sorry butt again tomorrow- but on Saturday I just might knock him over."

"Sydney for what its worth I can’t stand to see you covered in bruises but I know they going to help you heal inside honey. He gently touched her purple cheek and it was Jack who winced. I am a child abuser. Look what I forced you to go through today.

"Dad- come on if anyone deserved to be knocked on their ass today it was me. Poor Vaughn. Poor you. Trust me after you read moms book--"

He was tearing up and he disguised it by standing up as the surivor theme swelled on the tv I tell you what I will call Vaughn and have him pick you up tomorrow and take you to Yoav and I think I will go to bed now and do some reading of my own.


Part 8

a husband's love

Jack sat in his study – his chair turned to look out the window

The journal was gripped tightly in his hands and he wished he could somehow sew it into his hand so he could could somehow absorb some of the impact of his wife’s childhood

He was afraid to read more. Like Sydney- he was repulsed by the fact that he had thought his childhood had been difficult. Sure other boys had had it easier but other than the occasional meeting of his ass with his father s belt – jack had been loved. He had never been forced to kiss a hot woodstove to burn his lips and he had not been on his own his whole life, he could envision a 13 year old girl so badly assaulted she was bleeding through her clothes and he could see Laura Bristow in her words – the desire to read, to teach, to argue. It amazed him that she seemd so much older than not quite 14 when she had left home for the KGB and the untold horrors and false successes that lay ahead of her.

The fact that she had not been a raging psychopath had to mean she was an incredibly strong person and he wished he could have met her and known her wholly before her deceptive hand was forced. He loved this woman fiercely and he knew it could not have been easy to part with this little book this book that spoke so plainly so truthfully he knew he would never forget the words. Yet in her love for Sydney and for him she had given them a painful part of her soul- opened a wound in order for her blood to cleanse Sydney’s soul.

God he wanted her – he had so much to say. So much he wanted to show her.

Almost like magic he turned as he heard his name
“jack”

part 9

reckoning

Irina did not remain a magical vision for more than a millisecond.
Before even she could react- ( and that is fast folks) Jack had her in his arms and he was holding her so tightly she thought she would suffocate. Pushing him away she gasped
“Jesus Jack I knew you wanted to kill me but suffocation by bear hug? That was not one of your signature moves. "

Trust her to piss him off when all he wanted to do was love her
Oh lord she was definitely Sydneys mother he thought to himself. She was as infuriating as their daughter. Maybe it was good all three of them hadn’t grown up together, someone would have ended up murdering someone in the past 20 years and he wasn’t sure who would have been guilty of what.

But in his hand lay that darn journal and again his heart was full and his focus was back.

"I am sorry my dear – its just I was sittng here wishing for you and there you were – here you are and you are alive and from what I can see unscathed." Tunring on the small desk lamp he squited and examined her face. Picking a Kleenex he gently wiped away some makeup to reveal a e suspiciously large and purple painful looking bruise. He remembered her once telling him that she used makeup to cover marks from a fight - and he knew Sydney had mastered that trick well.

"I’ll kill whoever did that to you" he growled before he could help himself.

She thre her head back and chuckled throatily. “Jack Bristow I love you”
But you would have to kill me. I am the whoever who lost her balance on a fire escape in New York yesterday and managed to catch myself from falling 3 stories with the side of my face. Apparently I am less graceful at 54 than I was lead to believe." She added wryly.

She noticed the journal- she blushed "Oh lord Sydney has given it to you"
Shyly- {SHYLY?} jack thought to himself- she fingered the cover.

I think will burn this if you don’t mind—

"I do mind. Sydney and I have have just started it and it’s a page turner. Trouble is we both have to put it down becaue we know and love the protagonist so much it breaks our hearts to read about her adventures"

"Ahh – I see you have only met the child I once was." She could see where the pages had been recently turned and where the aged paper had yet to be touched

"Jack it was so long ago- it doesn’t matter anymore not to me andit shouldn't to you I only wanted Sydney to know that personal violations do not have to rob you of yourself. In fact they can make you very strong."

Jack shook his head and tried to hide the tears that threatened to fall. Christ he thought to himslef Jack you cry more often than a teenage girl. I have to get Barnett to give me something for that.

"Irina as true as that my be the thought of you growing up like that – it – its just not right... How could you raise our girl with so much love – where did you learn? "

He had her in his arms again and she allowed it. "Jack – I always knew my parents were overwhelmed and that their way was wrong. I promised myself that I would have a child someday if I was lucky enough – and he or she woud know no fear from my hands." She pulled away again and went to the window.
"Except the kind every parent needs to unveil at certain moments– such as when your daughter disappears at an amusment park or dives into the local pond to see if she can catch fish with her bare hands. Or decides to take her father s razor and shave her 4 year old face and ends up slashing her throat. The memory made Irina shudder- as it did Jack

"Or" she continued with self loathing- "when her mother shoots her. I am the mother of the year -jack where is my trophy?"


They did not realize that their daughter had overheard them until she was standing in the doorway- looking adult and childlike all at once.

"Momma” and Jack watched mother and child embrace for the first time in over 20 years.

Wow ! I don't know what to say else, just Wow.

Or perhaps, it's a great story, emotionnal... Irina doesn't have a easy childhood and she is still loving... I love.

Now, i have to read the first story :D

thanks I hope you enjoy a fathers journey


brenda

That was just beautiful, I really really loved it. very sad and emotional but very good. I really hope you post more soon, oh and please pm me if that is not too much to ask.

What a wonderful story, Brenda. I just caught up with it. I like reading it all at once.
I like what you did to the characters and the emotion.
B)

:blush01:

you guys make me feel like a million bucks

I have part 10 ready to go but as per the advice I have received on posting too darned quickly I am letting this one sit for a couple of days so I can proof it and add to it so when you read it hoepfully not only will the story be captivating but also unblemishd with typos and misplaced punctuation

that is my hope technologically challenged as I am

i wish i could simply speak into the computer and have my words appear properly spelled LOL

Brenda