Outside Looking In
By: Souris
Rated: PG-13
Category: Angst/Vignette/Romance-ish
Disclaimer: They aren't mine. Never will be. Entertainment purposes only. J.J. Abrams. Bad Robot. Yadda yadda. Although given the finale, I may be forced to sue for custody of Vaughn. I have a nice fenced backyard for Donovan.
Author's Note: Yeah, it's another one of those ubiquitous Syd/Vaughn reunion stories. All the cool kids are doing them, so I had to, too. Although belatedly because of a dead computer for a long, frustrating week. Sorry to those wanting the final chapter of "Aphelion" first. I tried, but the muse was having none of anything else until I dealt with the finale at least *once*. And since she's a fickle muse, she has to be appeased. I tried something a bit different with this fic. I'll tell you why I did it this way at the end. Thanks to Bella for the beta-read and for assuring me that it worked this way.
Warehouse on perimeter of airport
Taipei, Taiwan
Will shifted in the metal chair, trying desperately to get comfortable. It was a battle he'd fought and lost for the past hour or two, though he really had no concept of the passage of time. Everything in his body ached; the painkillers that Jack had given him had only taken the edge off. Instead of being excruciating, his jaw was now merely throbbing. He felt like dropping from exhaustion, but the pain was far too great for relaxation.
The pain and fatigue had kept him from asking Jack much of anything. The thousands of questions he knew he should have simply weren't there in his fogged mind. And it wasn't as if Jack were particularly forthcoming; he'd hardly spoken, having spent most of their time there typing away at a laptop computer. Suddenly, though, Jack snapped the computer shut and stood up.
"Where are you going?" Will asked groggily.
"I'm going after Sydney. They should have been back two hours ago."
Will stared at him, confused. The unease and fear he'd felt for what seemed like years now suddenly tightened around him. Jack hadn't mentioned any worry about Sydney before now. "Where is she? And who's 'they'?"
"I don't have time to explain. And you don't need to know."
Jack's reticence cut through Will's haze. It was really starting to piss him off, actually. "Fine. I'm coming with you."
"No, you're not. You are in no shape to help. Worrying about an untrained, injured operative would only slow me down and could get Sydney hurt. You need to stay here in case they show up. If no one is back in two hours, I want you to get on the first plane to anywhere. Use this." He reached into his pocket and flipped Will a small booklet.
Will opened the passport to find his picture with the name Clayton Greene. He grimaced and let out a frustrated sigh, then regretted it as the air passed over his raw gums. "Jack, I need to help. I owe Sydney --"
"You're staying here," Jack said in a voice that brooked no argument. "I am not --"
He tensed and broke off as the side door to the warehouse swung open and Sydney walked slowly in.
Will thought he heard Jack mutter "Thank God," but he wasn't sure. It could have been in his own head. "Sydney! You're OK!" he said, rushing -- as quickly as his protesting muscles would allow -- to her side.
She looked at him, and a chill ran through him. It wasn't just the blue hair and the outrageous outfit she wore; he felt as if he were looking at a stranger in Sydney Bristow's body. There was no warmth in her eyes, barely a flicker of recognition.
"Will. You're alive." Her voice was as cold and flat as her eyes. "Good."
He almost took a step backward at the deadness of her tone, but instead he reached out to her. "Syd ... what's wrong? You're scaring me."
"I should. I should terrify you." She looked down at his hand on her arm, then glanced back up at him. "You shouldn't touch me," she said matter-of-factly. "You'll die, too. They all do."
Will blinked in confusion, but before he could say anything, Jack spoke. "Sydney," he said, his voice as gentle as Will had ever heard it. "Where's Vaughn?"
Will turned to ask Jack who the hell "Vaughn" was, but the gravity in his face stopped him. He turned back to Sydney, and if he had thought her eyes cold before, now they were like chips of marble. In fact, she looked like a statue, pale and hard and lifeless. His already-pounding head spun.
"He's dead," she said, her voiced detached and distant. "The device was big and full of water. There was a surge. I made it through the door. He didn't. I watched him drown. They captured me and I met The Man. It's Mom. She talked a lot. She wants me to work with her. I said no. She said she would be in touch and let me go. And then I came here."
"She's in shock," Jack said in Will's direction. Will felt as if he were in shock himself. Nothing seemed real. He hadn't understook half of what she had referred to. It was as if he had fallen down Alice's rabbit hole. What did Syd mean about talking to her mother? She was dead -- wasn't she? What else had Syd kept hidden from him?
"Sydney, we need to get you warmed up," Jack said, reaching out to take her arm and guide her toward one of the chairs. "There's a blanket --"
"I said not to touch me." Sydney stopped moving, and after a moment, Jack dropped his hand. He seemed unsure what to do. The three stood there in silence for perhaps 30 seconds.
"Syd, I don't know what's going on," Will finally said. "But I'm so glad you're OK. I --"
"Sydney."
The voice came from off to the side, and Will jerked his head around. A man stood there, dressed all in black. His clothes were rumpled and wet, and his brown hair stuck up in every direction. He was staring at Sydney as if she were the only person in the room. Will followed his gaze. Sydney's back was to the man, and Will saw her spine straighten, if that were any more possible. She turned slowly, as if it required a great effort, until she was facing the man. Vaughn, Will thought.
The two of them stood and stared at each other for what seemed like years. The intensity of their gaze was like a tangible thing in the air between them, crackling with ... something. Will suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if he shouldn't be there.
Finally, Sydney took a halting step forward. As Will watched, the cold mask of her face crumbled into a look that he realized he would kill to have turned in his direction. She took another step, and another, and then, in a flurry of mutual movement, she was enveloped in the man's arms, her shoulders heaving.
"Vaughn!" she cried, and the sound tore at Will's heart. "I thought you were dead! Oh, God, Vaughn! I thought you were dead!" For a few moments, there was only the sound of her sobs echoing in the warehouse. Then, suddenly, she began pounding on his chest with her fists. "Why did you follow me? You weren't supposed to follow me! You could have died! I thought you died!" He didn't try to stop her blows, simply stood there and held her, murmuring things that Will couldn't hear, didn't want to hear. Her punches lessened, becoming more like slaps and then caresses as she opened her palms against his chest before wrapping her arms around his body and clinging to him fiercely.
"It's OK, Syd," Vaughn whispered, his hand cradling her head against his shoulder. "I couldn't pick you up on the comm. I thought ... I thought something might have happened to you. After Denpasar.... I couldn't take that chance. I couldn't just stay there and wait."
"It was like a nightmare. Everything was a nightmare." Sydney continued to weep against him. "I thought I'd lost you!"
"I know. But it's over. We're OK. We're all OK," he soothed, stroking her hair.
"I have so much to tell you!"
"And I have a long plane ride with nothing to do but listen."
She nodded against his shoulder. Gradually, her sobs lessened, and she pulled away from him slightly, sucking in a large breath. She gave a watery attempt at a smile. "I'm sorry for crying on your shoulder. Again."
He smiled down at her, and Will's stomach churned at the tenderness in his eyes. "'S'OK. I'm already pretty wet."
She actually managed the tiniest of laughs. Their gazes locked again, and Will suddenly felt a change in the air. Something about their eyes or their body language told him clearly that they were going to kiss. He wanted to scream at them to stop it, to run from the room so he wouldn't have to see Sydney kiss someone else -- again -- but he couldn't seem to move or speak. Everything was in slow motion.
Then Jack cleared his throat, and the moment was gone. "I'm glad you made it," he said to Vaughn. Sydney stepped away from Vaughn, her face slightly flushed, her eyes not quite meeting those of her father. Will expected Vaughn to drop his eyes in the face of Jack's stare -- God knows he would have -- but he didn't. He met Jack's gaze steadily and gave a slight nod. After a moment, Jack nodded back. It seemed to Will as if there were more going on in that exchange than he could grasp. Who the hell was this man?
As she avoided her father's eyes, Sydney seemed to really notice Will for the first time. "Oh, God, Will, what did they do to you?" she cried, rushing to his side and putting her arms around him. Even though his body ached, he was disappointed by her gentleness. "I'm so sorry! Are you OK?"
Just a few minutes ago, he would have cherished her embrace. It would have made everything so much better.
But now, everything still hurt. Even some things that hadn't hurt before.
* * * * *
Author's Note: OK, I know you're wondering, "Why the ihell/i did she do it from Will's point of view?? She inever/i writes Will! Well, the reasons are twofold: (1) Syd and Vaughn's emotions were just so intense in my mind that I didn't think I could do them justice right away. I kind of needed to circle around them a bit before tackling them more head-on. So I wanted to give the reunion a shot from a third party's viewpoint. That said, it had to be either Jack's or Will's, and I figured I could get more narrative (and emotional) mileage out of Will. (2) Plus, I think I just plain enjoyed the concept of rubbing Syd and Vaughn's feelings in Will's face. Yeah, I'm evil sometimes. The boy needs to get over it. No frelling V/S/W triangles in imy/i Alias world!
By: Souris
Rated: PG-13
Category: Angst/Vignette/Romance-ish
Disclaimer: They aren't mine. Never will be. Entertainment purposes only. J.J. Abrams. Bad Robot. Yadda yadda. Although given the finale, I may be forced to sue for custody of Vaughn. I have a nice fenced backyard for Donovan.
Author's Note: Yeah, it's another one of those ubiquitous Syd/Vaughn reunion stories. All the cool kids are doing them, so I had to, too. Although belatedly because of a dead computer for a long, frustrating week. Sorry to those wanting the final chapter of "Aphelion" first. I tried, but the muse was having none of anything else until I dealt with the finale at least *once*. And since she's a fickle muse, she has to be appeased. I tried something a bit different with this fic. I'll tell you why I did it this way at the end. Thanks to Bella for the beta-read and for assuring me that it worked this way.
Warehouse on perimeter of airport
Taipei, Taiwan
Will shifted in the metal chair, trying desperately to get comfortable. It was a battle he'd fought and lost for the past hour or two, though he really had no concept of the passage of time. Everything in his body ached; the painkillers that Jack had given him had only taken the edge off. Instead of being excruciating, his jaw was now merely throbbing. He felt like dropping from exhaustion, but the pain was far too great for relaxation.
The pain and fatigue had kept him from asking Jack much of anything. The thousands of questions he knew he should have simply weren't there in his fogged mind. And it wasn't as if Jack were particularly forthcoming; he'd hardly spoken, having spent most of their time there typing away at a laptop computer. Suddenly, though, Jack snapped the computer shut and stood up.
"Where are you going?" Will asked groggily.
"I'm going after Sydney. They should have been back two hours ago."
Will stared at him, confused. The unease and fear he'd felt for what seemed like years now suddenly tightened around him. Jack hadn't mentioned any worry about Sydney before now. "Where is she? And who's 'they'?"
"I don't have time to explain. And you don't need to know."
Jack's reticence cut through Will's haze. It was really starting to piss him off, actually. "Fine. I'm coming with you."
"No, you're not. You are in no shape to help. Worrying about an untrained, injured operative would only slow me down and could get Sydney hurt. You need to stay here in case they show up. If no one is back in two hours, I want you to get on the first plane to anywhere. Use this." He reached into his pocket and flipped Will a small booklet.
Will opened the passport to find his picture with the name Clayton Greene. He grimaced and let out a frustrated sigh, then regretted it as the air passed over his raw gums. "Jack, I need to help. I owe Sydney --"
"You're staying here," Jack said in a voice that brooked no argument. "I am not --"
He tensed and broke off as the side door to the warehouse swung open and Sydney walked slowly in.
Will thought he heard Jack mutter "Thank God," but he wasn't sure. It could have been in his own head. "Sydney! You're OK!" he said, rushing -- as quickly as his protesting muscles would allow -- to her side.
She looked at him, and a chill ran through him. It wasn't just the blue hair and the outrageous outfit she wore; he felt as if he were looking at a stranger in Sydney Bristow's body. There was no warmth in her eyes, barely a flicker of recognition.
"Will. You're alive." Her voice was as cold and flat as her eyes. "Good."
He almost took a step backward at the deadness of her tone, but instead he reached out to her. "Syd ... what's wrong? You're scaring me."
"I should. I should terrify you." She looked down at his hand on her arm, then glanced back up at him. "You shouldn't touch me," she said matter-of-factly. "You'll die, too. They all do."
Will blinked in confusion, but before he could say anything, Jack spoke. "Sydney," he said, his voice as gentle as Will had ever heard it. "Where's Vaughn?"
Will turned to ask Jack who the hell "Vaughn" was, but the gravity in his face stopped him. He turned back to Sydney, and if he had thought her eyes cold before, now they were like chips of marble. In fact, she looked like a statue, pale and hard and lifeless. His already-pounding head spun.
"He's dead," she said, her voiced detached and distant. "The device was big and full of water. There was a surge. I made it through the door. He didn't. I watched him drown. They captured me and I met The Man. It's Mom. She talked a lot. She wants me to work with her. I said no. She said she would be in touch and let me go. And then I came here."
"She's in shock," Jack said in Will's direction. Will felt as if he were in shock himself. Nothing seemed real. He hadn't understook half of what she had referred to. It was as if he had fallen down Alice's rabbit hole. What did Syd mean about talking to her mother? She was dead -- wasn't she? What else had Syd kept hidden from him?
"Sydney, we need to get you warmed up," Jack said, reaching out to take her arm and guide her toward one of the chairs. "There's a blanket --"
"I said not to touch me." Sydney stopped moving, and after a moment, Jack dropped his hand. He seemed unsure what to do. The three stood there in silence for perhaps 30 seconds.
"Syd, I don't know what's going on," Will finally said. "But I'm so glad you're OK. I --"
"Sydney."
The voice came from off to the side, and Will jerked his head around. A man stood there, dressed all in black. His clothes were rumpled and wet, and his brown hair stuck up in every direction. He was staring at Sydney as if she were the only person in the room. Will followed his gaze. Sydney's back was to the man, and Will saw her spine straighten, if that were any more possible. She turned slowly, as if it required a great effort, until she was facing the man. Vaughn, Will thought.
The two of them stood and stared at each other for what seemed like years. The intensity of their gaze was like a tangible thing in the air between them, crackling with ... something. Will suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if he shouldn't be there.
Finally, Sydney took a halting step forward. As Will watched, the cold mask of her face crumbled into a look that he realized he would kill to have turned in his direction. She took another step, and another, and then, in a flurry of mutual movement, she was enveloped in the man's arms, her shoulders heaving.
"Vaughn!" she cried, and the sound tore at Will's heart. "I thought you were dead! Oh, God, Vaughn! I thought you were dead!" For a few moments, there was only the sound of her sobs echoing in the warehouse. Then, suddenly, she began pounding on his chest with her fists. "Why did you follow me? You weren't supposed to follow me! You could have died! I thought you died!" He didn't try to stop her blows, simply stood there and held her, murmuring things that Will couldn't hear, didn't want to hear. Her punches lessened, becoming more like slaps and then caresses as she opened her palms against his chest before wrapping her arms around his body and clinging to him fiercely.
"It's OK, Syd," Vaughn whispered, his hand cradling her head against his shoulder. "I couldn't pick you up on the comm. I thought ... I thought something might have happened to you. After Denpasar.... I couldn't take that chance. I couldn't just stay there and wait."
"It was like a nightmare. Everything was a nightmare." Sydney continued to weep against him. "I thought I'd lost you!"
"I know. But it's over. We're OK. We're all OK," he soothed, stroking her hair.
"I have so much to tell you!"
"And I have a long plane ride with nothing to do but listen."
She nodded against his shoulder. Gradually, her sobs lessened, and she pulled away from him slightly, sucking in a large breath. She gave a watery attempt at a smile. "I'm sorry for crying on your shoulder. Again."
He smiled down at her, and Will's stomach churned at the tenderness in his eyes. "'S'OK. I'm already pretty wet."
She actually managed the tiniest of laughs. Their gazes locked again, and Will suddenly felt a change in the air. Something about their eyes or their body language told him clearly that they were going to kiss. He wanted to scream at them to stop it, to run from the room so he wouldn't have to see Sydney kiss someone else -- again -- but he couldn't seem to move or speak. Everything was in slow motion.
Then Jack cleared his throat, and the moment was gone. "I'm glad you made it," he said to Vaughn. Sydney stepped away from Vaughn, her face slightly flushed, her eyes not quite meeting those of her father. Will expected Vaughn to drop his eyes in the face of Jack's stare -- God knows he would have -- but he didn't. He met Jack's gaze steadily and gave a slight nod. After a moment, Jack nodded back. It seemed to Will as if there were more going on in that exchange than he could grasp. Who the hell was this man?
As she avoided her father's eyes, Sydney seemed to really notice Will for the first time. "Oh, God, Will, what did they do to you?" she cried, rushing to his side and putting her arms around him. Even though his body ached, he was disappointed by her gentleness. "I'm so sorry! Are you OK?"
Just a few minutes ago, he would have cherished her embrace. It would have made everything so much better.
But now, everything still hurt. Even some things that hadn't hurt before.
* * * * *
Author's Note: OK, I know you're wondering, "Why the ihell/i did she do it from Will's point of view?? She inever/i writes Will! Well, the reasons are twofold: (1) Syd and Vaughn's emotions were just so intense in my mind that I didn't think I could do them justice right away. I kind of needed to circle around them a bit before tackling them more head-on. So I wanted to give the reunion a shot from a third party's viewpoint. That said, it had to be either Jack's or Will's, and I figured I could get more narrative (and emotional) mileage out of Will. (2) Plus, I think I just plain enjoyed the concept of rubbing Syd and Vaughn's feelings in Will's face. Yeah, I'm evil sometimes. The boy needs to get over it. No frelling V/S/W triangles in imy/i Alias world!
