Redemption
"She is, and always has been, my one hope for redemption." Companion piece to Hope.
"Devil or angel, lover or enemy, she is, and always has been, my one hope for redemption." Jack POV, just a short one parter.
~*~*~
It's not worth it. She's not worth the risk, not again.
This runs through my head, day in, day out. Repeating this mantra, harboring my anger, is the only thing that keeps me sane. Reminding myself of the hell I've endured is my only remaining link to reality, to the Jack Bristow that I've tried for 20 years to be. The Jack Bristow that doesn't need anyone, that doesn't feel pain. Longing. Love.
I was vulnerable once, and she destroyed me. Never again.
I see her nearly every day now, quite a change from the past few decades. She spends her time in that cold, dark jail cell which somehow, is made an elegant palace merely by her presence. But that's no surprise. She's always had an air about her, a regal command that makes the entire world stop and take notice. We used to laugh that in the Bristow family, she was Queen and we all knew it.
I let her rule me then. Never again. Never again, Bristow, don't let her triumph over you again.
And yes, I see her every night. That same hauntingly beautiful face, worn in my mind by two very different women.
Laura.
Irina.
The nights that kill me the most are the nights when I dream about Laura. In dreams, it's 20 years ago and she's there, smiling and gentle and loving. I can feel her hand in mine as we follow Sydney along the beach. I can see her glowing, satisfied face after a long, lazy afternoon of talking and lovemaking. I see the woman I loved, but worst of all, I see the man that I was when I loved her.
Inevitably, I startle awake to recall all that has passed, and each time, I feel the anguish of losing Laura all over again.
Then there are the Irina nights. I dream of the cold, calculating eyes, that showcase a shrewd mind that never stops turning.
And that smile.
She has Laura's face. Laura's body. But most of all, she has Laura's smile. That smile is the one thing I've never been able to fully rid myself of. When Irina smiles, I'm reminded that she knows damn well what she's done to me...what she still does to me every time I see her. That smile reminds me that after so long, she can still read me like no one else can, and sees my thoughts without my saying a word.
It tells me that she is fully aware that despite all the deceit between us, I still want her, have always wanted her. That as much as I hate what she's done, my every instinct screams to touch her again, be with her again, damning all consequences.
Denial only takes us so far, and then the truth kicks in. And the truth of the matter is...I need her as much now as I ever did. Damn, I need her so much. And I hate myself for it.
Everyone looks for their own salvation, be it in this life or the next. When I look at what I've done, at the man I've become, I get the distinct feeling that redemption will always be just beyond my grasp...but then I think of her.
Devil or angel, lover or enemy, she is, and always has been, my one hope for redemption. Everything inside me says that if the walls we've built between us could be torn down, the hatred forgotten, I would once again find my salvation.
And most likely, the same act that would save me would be my damnation. But for that one moment of redemption I know she could give me, hell just might be worth the risk.
Posted by Carrie on 12:39 PM