Alias- Jack & Laura

32) It's Okay

Irina shut her eyes in terror as she fell, then opened them when she stopped with a jerk. She looked up to see that she was standing in front of the apartment building where she lived with her parents. She was nine years old, and she was coming back from her music lesson. She hummed the song she'd been working on as she opened the door and started up the stairs to their third-floor apartment.

Something was wrong. A part of her was telling her to stop, that this wasn't right, that something horrible was about to happen. But she kept humming, kept climbing the stairs, unable to stop. As she reached the second floor landing, she heard a thump from above, and then her papa's roar of anger. She paused, but only for a moment.

When she reached the third floor, she sat down on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. She knew better than to walk in on her papa when he was in a rage, so she waited. That little voice inside of her screamed that she didn't want to stay here, didn't want to see what was going to happen, but she couldn't move.

The apartment door flew open, and Mama came out backwards, followed closely by Papa. "You b*tch," he screamed. "What did you do with my money?"

"Irina needed new shoes, Boris, I told you that," Mama said, trying to calm him.

He slapped her hard, and Irina winced. "You know better than to touch my money. I'll give you what I see fit."

He drew back his arm to punch her, and Irina couldn't stay still any longer. She jumped up and moved toward him. "No, Papa. Please!" she cried.

Papa and Mama both turned toward her. "Irina." Mama started to say.

"Quiet, you little brat!" Papa yelled. He slapped Irina, and Mama tried to get between them. Without looking at Mama, he lifted his other hand and pushed her away. Time slowed down. Irina watched as her mother stumbled backwards toward the stairs, teetered for a moment on the edge of the top step, and then fell. Mama didn't scream, but Irina did. She ran to the stairs and stopped short. Mama was lying on the second-floor landing, her eyes wide open, her head cocked at a strange angle.

Irina stumbled down the steps, sobbing, almost falling herself. She heard her father swear softly behind her, saw the neighbors coming out to stare, but didn't care. She knelt beside her mother and picked up a limp hand. "Mama. Mama," she said through the tears. She cried harder, great hiccoughing sobs that made it hard for her to breathe. Soon the world began to spin, and once more everything went black.

***

The spinning stopped with a thud, and Irina opened her eyes. She was in a dim, empty room, lying on her side on the floor. She was cold. Suddenly she heard a voice, and jumped. "Irina, it's all right. You're safe," the voice said with a strange accent. She felt her shoulders get warm, as if someone was hugging her.

"Who's there?" she whispered.

"It's Jack," the voice answered, sounding surprised. Jack. She knew that name. Something moved against her cheek, like someone was touching her.

She jerked back and sat up. "Where are you?" she said, tears coming into her voice as she looked around frantically.

"I'm right here," Jack's voice said. She felt arms wrap around her, felt herself pulled into a warm, solid object.

The embrace felt familiar, but she still only saw the room around her. Except it didn't look right, either; it was getting darker, and lines became blurred. Then the room started spinning around her. "I can't see you!"

"Close your eyes." She did, and instantly felt better, although she was still spinning.

Tentatively, she reached up and put her arms around Jack's solid bulk. "Jack?"

"I'm right here, Laura," he said, switching both languages and names.

When he said that, she remembered. She was thirty, not nine, and Jack was her husband. And her mind felt horribly fuzzy. She opened her eyes tentatively and was relieved to see the wall of their bedroom. She pulled back until she could see Jack. He looked worried. "Jack?" she whispered again. Her stomach lurched. "I don't feel so good," she said in English, then put her hands over her mouth and closed her eyes. She breathed in deeply through her nose, telling herself over and over that she would not throw up in the bed.

Jack let go of her and rolled quickly off the bed; a moment later she felt him reach around her. "Here," he said. She opened her eyes and grabbed the bathroom trashcan from him, just in time. Jack climbed up beside her and brushed the few strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail back from her face. "You all right?" he asked when she was finished. She wasn't, but she knew what he meant, so she nodded. "Okay. I'll be right back." He got up again and disappeared into the bathroom, coming back with a wet washcloth and a capful of mouthwash. She started shaking slightly as he took the trashcan from her and wiped her face. He handed her a tissue. She stared at it for a moment, then used it to blow her nose. She rinsed her mouth when he handed her the mouthwash; when she didn't move for a moment after that, he took her by the shoulders and gently pushed her down to the bed. "God, this didn't turn out very well, did it?" he said as he pulled the blankets up over her.

She stared at him as she got dizzy again. Her head suddenly started to ache. "Jack?"

He frowned. "You've still got the drugs in your system. Try to relax, okay?" She nodded and watched as he picked up the trashcan and carried it into the bathroom, then let her eyes close.