Title: Learning to Deal
Author: ReeCee
Email: dangerous_angel@2die4.com
Rating: PG for strange situations. Correct me if I'm wrong, really.
Spoilers/Timeline: None, really. It's AU, so think what you want of it.
Summary: CM January Challenge! It can stand alone, but I might work on some other chapters. Vaughn POV, dealing with bad times. Completely AU!!! I'm not even sure if I like it. lol
Disclaimer: JJ is my Alias God. My faith (for the time being, anyway) is in him. I just like to play with his toys.
Archive: Er, CM. FF.net, and if you want it too, just ask I guess.
I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I heard the news.
I was sitting back in my office, worrying about Eric Weiss. He had lately been. off at work. I had convinced Kendall that it was because it was the year anniversary since his being shot, but I didn't even believe it. Something was up, and I was definitely worried about him.
But inevitably, my worry for Weiss drifted to my job. I had been sitting quietly by my phone, waiting to hear back from Sydney.
Correction. Just waiting to hear her voice.
I remember smiling at the thought of her, sighing softly as I closed my eyes remembering every contour of her body.
It wasn't often that I allowed myself the luxury of doing so, but, for once, I felt justified. The mission she was on was definitely the most important op she'd ever been on.
This was the one that would provide the intel on taking down SD-6 and the Alliance. A storage facility with records of anyone and everyone who ever had dealings with the Alliance was found in the Philippines. The end was near and I couldn't wait to see her. Only a few more hours left to go.
But I was shocked out of my reverie as Eric came barreling through the door.
"Come with me, NOW."
He's gone before I can ask why, but the urgency in his voice has me up and out of my chair instantly.
"Eric?" I call, sticking my head out into the hallway. I turn my head left just in time to see him disappearing at the end of the hallway. I break out into a run to catch up, only to run straight into a sea of CIA workers. They are all huddled around a TV, staring intently with the occasional murmur. I see Weiss' head topping the others and I quickly plow my way through to him.
"What is it? What's going on?" I look up to the TV screen just in time to see a dropping plane burst into flames. I blink, not understanding.
But then I am taken aback by the strangled sob that comes from a man closer by the TV. It only took me a few seconds to identify him as Jack Bristow. But why was he crying?
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks as I pieced together the information.
All of a sudden, I heard another sob much like the one from Jack. This time, it was coming from me.
Sydney was not coming home.
The days before Sydney's memorial bled together. I didn't know up from down, let alone what day it was. But Eric kept me in touch with reality, but he was beginning to unravel himself. He'd check in on me, but his behavior was sporadic and disjointed, like he was losing himself. But he still managed to hold me together while I cried for a lost love.
When the day of her memorial finally came, I felt like I had dried myself out and that I could attend without breaking down. But I didn't stand a chance. At the front stood Jack Bristow and Irina Derevko, each lending each other support while crying throughout. An unlikely pairing, but they were broken. They sought comfort from eachother; their only daughter was gone and there was nothing left for them but each other. They looked exactly how I felt. But I had no one. I couldn't stay, so I left.
I don't know how long I walked before Weiss grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me to him. He hugged me briefly, and then pushed me towards a small pub further down the street.
He walked confidently up to the bar and I followed behind him. "You've been here before?" I asked, though it came out more like a statement.
He nodded. "A lot. Welcome to my world, Mikey boy," he said, sweeping his arm around, presenting his world to me.
It was then that I realized exactly what world I had stepped into: Men and their whores in booths by the back, older men at tables guzzling beer and "chasing the dragon", the over ambitious youngins propped up in a corner.
I looked back at Weiss in time to see him pull out a small sack of white powder and a credit card. He signaled to the bartender who promptly dropped a short straw in front of him.
I watched fascinated as my friend set up a couple lines. After sniffing one, he looked up at me offering the straw. "What have you got to lose, Mikey boy? There's no Sydney to run back to."
I looked up at him, tears already beginning to spill down my cheeks. He was right. I had nothing now. The love of my life was gone forever, there was nothing left for me.
Silently, I took the straw from his hands and sniffed up the line. When it was gone, I closed my eyes briefly to ease the burning sensation.
When my eyes opened again, tinged with tears and a newfound indifference, I saw Weiss staring back at me.
"The trick is to keep breathing, Mikey boy. She ain't never coming back. You might as well learn to deal."
"Sure," I say, sniffing another line.
Sure.
Author: ReeCee
Email: dangerous_angel@2die4.com
Rating: PG for strange situations. Correct me if I'm wrong, really.
Spoilers/Timeline: None, really. It's AU, so think what you want of it.
Summary: CM January Challenge! It can stand alone, but I might work on some other chapters. Vaughn POV, dealing with bad times. Completely AU!!! I'm not even sure if I like it. lol
Disclaimer: JJ is my Alias God. My faith (for the time being, anyway) is in him. I just like to play with his toys.
Archive: Er, CM. FF.net, and if you want it too, just ask I guess.
I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I heard the news.
I was sitting back in my office, worrying about Eric Weiss. He had lately been. off at work. I had convinced Kendall that it was because it was the year anniversary since his being shot, but I didn't even believe it. Something was up, and I was definitely worried about him.
But inevitably, my worry for Weiss drifted to my job. I had been sitting quietly by my phone, waiting to hear back from Sydney.
Correction. Just waiting to hear her voice.
I remember smiling at the thought of her, sighing softly as I closed my eyes remembering every contour of her body.
It wasn't often that I allowed myself the luxury of doing so, but, for once, I felt justified. The mission she was on was definitely the most important op she'd ever been on.
This was the one that would provide the intel on taking down SD-6 and the Alliance. A storage facility with records of anyone and everyone who ever had dealings with the Alliance was found in the Philippines. The end was near and I couldn't wait to see her. Only a few more hours left to go.
But I was shocked out of my reverie as Eric came barreling through the door.
"Come with me, NOW."
He's gone before I can ask why, but the urgency in his voice has me up and out of my chair instantly.
"Eric?" I call, sticking my head out into the hallway. I turn my head left just in time to see him disappearing at the end of the hallway. I break out into a run to catch up, only to run straight into a sea of CIA workers. They are all huddled around a TV, staring intently with the occasional murmur. I see Weiss' head topping the others and I quickly plow my way through to him.
"What is it? What's going on?" I look up to the TV screen just in time to see a dropping plane burst into flames. I blink, not understanding.
But then I am taken aback by the strangled sob that comes from a man closer by the TV. It only took me a few seconds to identify him as Jack Bristow. But why was he crying?
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks as I pieced together the information.
All of a sudden, I heard another sob much like the one from Jack. This time, it was coming from me.
Sydney was not coming home.
The days before Sydney's memorial bled together. I didn't know up from down, let alone what day it was. But Eric kept me in touch with reality, but he was beginning to unravel himself. He'd check in on me, but his behavior was sporadic and disjointed, like he was losing himself. But he still managed to hold me together while I cried for a lost love.
When the day of her memorial finally came, I felt like I had dried myself out and that I could attend without breaking down. But I didn't stand a chance. At the front stood Jack Bristow and Irina Derevko, each lending each other support while crying throughout. An unlikely pairing, but they were broken. They sought comfort from eachother; their only daughter was gone and there was nothing left for them but each other. They looked exactly how I felt. But I had no one. I couldn't stay, so I left.
I don't know how long I walked before Weiss grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me to him. He hugged me briefly, and then pushed me towards a small pub further down the street.
He walked confidently up to the bar and I followed behind him. "You've been here before?" I asked, though it came out more like a statement.
He nodded. "A lot. Welcome to my world, Mikey boy," he said, sweeping his arm around, presenting his world to me.
It was then that I realized exactly what world I had stepped into: Men and their whores in booths by the back, older men at tables guzzling beer and "chasing the dragon", the over ambitious youngins propped up in a corner.
I looked back at Weiss in time to see him pull out a small sack of white powder and a credit card. He signaled to the bartender who promptly dropped a short straw in front of him.
I watched fascinated as my friend set up a couple lines. After sniffing one, he looked up at me offering the straw. "What have you got to lose, Mikey boy? There's no Sydney to run back to."
I looked up at him, tears already beginning to spill down my cheeks. He was right. I had nothing now. The love of my life was gone forever, there was nothing left for me.
Silently, I took the straw from his hands and sniffed up the line. When it was gone, I closed my eyes briefly to ease the burning sensation.
When my eyes opened again, tinged with tears and a newfound indifference, I saw Weiss staring back at me.
"The trick is to keep breathing, Mikey boy. She ain't never coming back. You might as well learn to deal."
"Sure," I say, sniffing another line.
Sure.