sunday_reveries: You'll never know how it feels to be the one who's left behind...
sunday_reveries : "All the world will be your enemy, Prince With A Thousand Enemies. If they catch you, they will kill you... But first they must catch you."
"You're going to Stockholm."
How many times had he stood in front of her, awaiting orders, knowing that no matter what she asked of him, he'd do it without question? If she had told him to cut his own heart out, he would have gladly done it, but when it came down to his orders or Allison, he had chosen the woman he loved over the woman he served, and while it had worked in their favor, in the long run, he knew that his disobeying would cost him when Irina could find the time in her scheming to find an appropriate punishment. She'd never once let him get away with anything in the nine years he worked for her- this would be no different.
"You'll be meeting my contact."
She seemed so cool and confident, like this was an ordinary meeting, but there was a hard edge to her eyes and she looked more tired than anything. It was the look of a woman reaching an endgame that wasn't the one she'd been heading towards. He longed to question what changed and whether or not it was his fault, but he knew the truth and hearing that it was his fault would have been much more bearable than that. It wasn't just a punishment, it was a sentence. It was a game of choice and she wasn't planning on choosing him.
"Sydney will be there."
He held his breath and bit his tongue.
"You'll let her take you into custody, and you'll tell the CIA everything you know about Sloane's plans."
It felt like all the air had left the room. Even as that was exactly what he was expecting, actually hearing it seemed to come as a shock and, for a moment, all he could do was stare at her, praying it was a lie, wishing he'd heard wrong. Being leashed and collared was one thing, but caged was another thing entirely, and even if he wasn't the sort of person the CIA would likely execute as soon as they got him into custody, the possibility was still there.
He'd be willingly walking into a trap. After nine of years of playing this game and avoiding capture and weaseling his way out of everything, it would be like he just gave up altogether. Irina was practically giftwrapping him as a present for the daughter she abandoned almost thirty years ago and abandoning him, altogether. He'd been nothing but loyal, save that one trifle of a circumstance, and he'd accept any punishment, but this one simply wasn't fair.
He remembered something from his childhood, in that moment. Words from a book he'd cherished that played in the back of his mind like a mantra during every mission as a warning to do well, because failure could mean utter disaster. "All the world will be your enemy, Prince With A Thousand Enemies. If they catch you, they will kill you... But first they must catch you."
He wondered, bitterly, as they crossed his mind, in this terrible of moments, if El-ahrairah was ever forced to walk right into his own capture, but the answer was clear enough. El-ahrairah wasn't a dog, after all.
Funny. He never once thought that "all the world" would ever come to extend to her, as well.
"Is that understood?"
But what could he say to her? In the end, either option was death. To deny her was to prove he was worthless as an asset all along and invite her disapproval and that would be the last thing he ever saw. At least if he did this, he'd be walking right into his own redemption in her eyes, even if it meant he never walked out again. This was how he could make it up to her, even if it was the last thing he ever did. Even if it wasn't a fair trade it all, it was a trade he'd still make, because she was asking it of him.
In the end, he knew the truth. He'd cut out his own heart if she asked him to.
"Yes."
Muse: Julian Sark
Word Count: 664
"You're going to Stockholm."
How many times had he stood in front of her, awaiting orders, knowing that no matter what she asked of him, he'd do it without question? If she had told him to cut his own heart out, he would have gladly done it, but when it came down to his orders or Allison, he had chosen the woman he loved over the woman he served, and while it had worked in their favor, in the long run, he knew that his disobeying would cost him when Irina could find the time in her scheming to find an appropriate punishment. She'd never once let him get away with anything in the nine years he worked for her- this would be no different.
"You'll be meeting my contact."
She seemed so cool and confident, like this was an ordinary meeting, but there was a hard edge to her eyes and she looked more tired than anything. It was the look of a woman reaching an endgame that wasn't the one she'd been heading towards. He longed to question what changed and whether or not it was his fault, but he knew the truth and hearing that it was his fault would have been much more bearable than that. It wasn't just a punishment, it was a sentence. It was a game of choice and she wasn't planning on choosing him.
"Sydney will be there."
He held his breath and bit his tongue.
"You'll let her take you into custody, and you'll tell the CIA everything you know about Sloane's plans."
It felt like all the air had left the room. Even as that was exactly what he was expecting, actually hearing it seemed to come as a shock and, for a moment, all he could do was stare at her, praying it was a lie, wishing he'd heard wrong. Being leashed and collared was one thing, but caged was another thing entirely, and even if he wasn't the sort of person the CIA would likely execute as soon as they got him into custody, the possibility was still there.
He'd be willingly walking into a trap. After nine of years of playing this game and avoiding capture and weaseling his way out of everything, it would be like he just gave up altogether. Irina was practically giftwrapping him as a present for the daughter she abandoned almost thirty years ago and abandoning him, altogether. He'd been nothing but loyal, save that one trifle of a circumstance, and he'd accept any punishment, but this one simply wasn't fair.
He remembered something from his childhood, in that moment. Words from a book he'd cherished that played in the back of his mind like a mantra during every mission as a warning to do well, because failure could mean utter disaster. "All the world will be your enemy, Prince With A Thousand Enemies. If they catch you, they will kill you... But first they must catch you."
He wondered, bitterly, as they crossed his mind, in this terrible of moments, if El-ahrairah was ever forced to walk right into his own capture, but the answer was clear enough. El-ahrairah wasn't a dog, after all.
Funny. He never once thought that "all the world" would ever come to extend to her, as well.
"Is that understood?"
But what could he say to her? In the end, either option was death. To deny her was to prove he was worthless as an asset all along and invite her disapproval and that would be the last thing he ever saw. At least if he did this, he'd be walking right into his own redemption in her eyes, even if it meant he never walked out again. This was how he could make it up to her, even if it was the last thing he ever did. Even if it wasn't a fair trade it all, it was a trade he'd still make, because she was asking it of him.
In the end, he knew the truth. He'd cut out his own heart if she asked him to.
"Yes."
Muse: Julian Sark
Word Count: 664