I don't own Alias . . . or any of the characters. Which is way too bad, because I don't think I'd mind owing Vaughn or Sark all that much . . . Sighs and pokes forehead . . .
When Sark finally goes mad, will Vaughn's love be enough to keep Sydney alive? Okay, that was dumb, but the story's good, I promise. Sort-of based around the song "Empty Apartment" by Yellowcard . . . hence the name . . . This is a one-shot, and my first try at a fanfic, so be nice . . . R&R!
With a small grunt of pain, Sydney Bristow slowly regained conscious. Rubbing her head, she felt a swift rush of pain course through her body. Taking a deep breath, she began to inspect her surroundings. The room she was being held in was more like a cell block, with no doors or windows. The only visible way of entering or exiting seemed to be a large, square hole in the low ceiling. As she began to try to remember what had happened, a cold, British voice came from behind her.
"It's been a long time, Sydney," the voice said. "I've missed you." Turning her head, she saw just who she expected it to be; Julian Sark was grinning at her, an evil fire dancing in his blue eyes. She began to get up to face him, but as she did, a sharp pain coursed through her left leg. Looking down at it, she saw what resembled more of a twisted, bloody mess then a human leg. It was very, very broken.
Sark continued to stand and silently smile at her, and she slowly began to remember the events of the evening. She and Vaughn had been on a mission in Rome after a Rambaldi artifact. The CIA was working on breaking a code Rambaldi had concealed inside twelve of the pieces, and the one they were obtaining that night was crucial in the decoding of the message. Sark had attacked her from behind like the coward that he was, and knocked her unconscious. Vaughn, however . . . Vaughn! Where was he?
"I've missed you," Sark repeated, taking several steps twords her. "As I assume you now know, you're mainly immobilized." Looking down at her bent, bloody leg, he tut-tutted and gave it a forceful kick. She cried out, and he laughed. "It seems you've gone and broken your leg. You really must be more careful, Miss Bristow."
"What do you want, Sark?" she asked through gritted teeth.
"Now now, Miss Bristow! There's no reason to be so rude! We're old friends, are we not?"
"What do you want?" she repeated. Walking around to face her, Sark squatted down in front of Sydney and laughed.
"Just one thing, and it's nothing you can't give me. All I want is your life." Sydney blinked, slightly taken aback by his demand.
"What are you talking about?" she asked stupidly, still shocked by the bluntness of the statement.
"You heard me, Miss Bristow. I want you to die, and I want your death to be at my hand. I'd like it to be slow and painful, very painful, though I'll settle for quickly also. I just want you to die for everything you've done to me, and to my life. You've made it a hell, and I'd like for you to experience some of that same hell."
Looking at him with wide eyes, the only thought running through Sydney's head was, 'Julian Sark is truly crazy. He is completely and totally insane.' But she went along with him anyway. "You'd get caught if you just flat-out killed me, Sark. You'd never get away with it."
Getting up from his position in front of her, he nodded. "Yes, I know. I've thought about this for a very long time, and I've decided it's worth it. The worst the CIA can do is kill me, and at least that will allow me to escape the ruins you've turned my life into." A small rope ladder appeared from the hole in the ceiling, and Sark disappeared up it. Over his shoulder, he called, "I'll leave you alone for a while so you can think about that, okay love? See you soon!"
So Sydney did just that; she thought. First about a way to escape, any way to escape. She thought for what felt like hours before the answer came . . . there was none. With the only exit a good six feet above her head, and her broken leg, there was no escape from this death room. So eventually her thoughts drifted back to the one topic she hadn't been able to stop thinking about for almost a year; Vaughn and Lauren.
Waking up from this nightmare
How's your life, what's it like there?
She didn't believe at first that he'd gotten married. She just couldn't believe he'd give up on her, on them, so easily.
Is it all that you want it to be?
Does it hurt when you think about me?
And how broken my heart is?
She began to do something she rarely allowed herself to do since she got back from her "lost time" . . . she cried. Hot, flowing tears fell from her eyes, refusing to cease. Thoughts and memories came rushing back, and the remembering hurt more then any pain Sark could ever inflict upon her. And suddenly, she couldn't think of anything to fight for. So she was surprised when she was jolted out of her thoughts by Vaughn crashing down from the cealing. Being consious while he fell made his drop much less damaging then it had been for Syd.
Sark's voice came from above; "I'd like him to watch, Sydney, if that's okay. But you two can have some time alone first." Quickly making his way over to her, Vaughn surveyed the damage to her leg, then softly took her in his arms. She flinched at his touch, and recoiled slightly. But he just held her tighter, and said,
"God Sydney, what did he do to you?"
"He is . . . he said he's gonna kill me." Vaughn shook his head.
"No, Syd. No he's not." He took her hand in his and looked around the small room. "We're gonna get out of here. Both of us, alive."
When you get angry and no one's around
You know that I'll catch you when you're falling down
'Not anymore,' Sydney thought to herself, the words of her favorite song coming back to her once again. She found it funny how some of these words fit into her life so perfectly. 'Not anymore. He's catching Lauren now.'
"No we aren't, Vaughn. There's no way out. I've checked, over and over. I've looked for every possible escape, and there just isn't one. He's insane, and he's going to kill me. He'll let you go, though, I know he will. He wants to get caught, so he'll let you go. But . . ." her eyes filled up with tears. "Tell my father I love him, okay? And find Will for me . . . tell him, too . . ." Vaughn shook his head, and moved closer. Wrapping himself around her whole body, he covered everything but her mangled leg, whispering, "No, no, no," over and over. After several minutes of holding each other, the silence was broken by a gunshot from overhead, followed very shortly by Sydney's scream. The bullet had hit the one spot not covered by Vaughn; her leg. Both of their heads shot up, and they saw Sark with a sick smile on his face, climbing back down the ladder.
"I finally figured out the perfect plan. What could be more painful, for both you and your little lovebird, to have him there as you die? I'll let that sink in, okay? Who knows, maybe I won't have to waste more than two bullets after all!" Her leg was losing blood extremely quickly, and her body was losing energy almost as fast.
"Sydney?" Vaughn said with tears in his eyes. "Sydney! Don't you dare leave me! We're gonna get out of here, remember? We're getting out of here together!" Looking up at him, his eyes filled with tears, she felt her heart break. 'I've never been good at goodbyes,' she thought.
"Vaughn . . ."
We came together but you left alone
And I know how it feels to walk out on your own
"Syd?" he replied, tears falling down his face.
Maybe someday I will see you again
And you'll look me in my eyes and call me your friend
"I love you." And then she was gone, leaving Vaughn to clutch at her lifeless body, sobbing her name.
