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Title / Prompt: Only Lies / 001 - More, Sisters of Mercy
Character: Irina Derevko
Pairings: Irina Derevko/Jack Bristow
Fandom: Alias
Word count: 401
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: J.J Abrams and Bad Robot own Irina. Who is not evil. Just FYI. :)

She still dreams about California sometimes. And when she wakes, she still longs for things she cannot have. Still reaches for someone who isn't there.

She knows by now that these dreams and these desires aren't to be shaken aside. There is only one answer to this, though she has searched for others.

If she could only turn away and not look back- if she could only turn away and keep going, not giving a damn for what she was leaving behind... If she could do that, she would have done it long ago.

But she knows better now.

Irina Derevko has spent almost thirty years trying to ignore the things that she feels, trying to set them aside. Thirty years of dreams, of wanting. Thirty years of regrets.

She learned to feign all of this years ago. She breathed lies into her kisses, and he believed.

That's all that it ever was, of course. Only lies.

Only lies, so many that it took her years to realize she had believed, too.

She wasn't supposed to fall in love with him, and she's not supposed to miss him.

And she isn't supposed to dream of California.

She's still playing the game, but the rules are different now. Now, she lets him get closer. Lets him almost reach her, and then draws away again. Not because she doesn't want, but because she wants too much. Because thirty years ago he almost made her forget which were the lies she told him, and which the ones she told herself. Because she can still lose herself in the way he looks at her.

She went to hell for him. She'd do it again, but she never wants him to know that. She wants him to wonder, instead, if he will ever be forgiven for that sin. It is easier by far to keep him guessing than to admit that he has had the answers all along.

In a way she is still telling lies. The difference is that this time, he knows them when he hears them. This, too, is a game they play. She pretends that she's still angry, and he pretends that he believes her.

But on the nights when she dreams of California, she knows it's time to let the lies fade away. Time to let the truth be told, again.

Truth takes time, but some truths have taken too long.


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Irina Derevko

March 2015

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