Title : Something To Live For
Author : Miss B
Rating : PG
E-mail : greenfairy1899@hotmail.com
Archive : If you want. Just email me first.
Disclaimer : This is a short little diddy I did, my very first Alias fanfic. I'm one who focuses on immediate angst and tries to investigate and dig a little deeper, to try and put myself into a character's position and think of what I would do. Where Syd is going with the whole romantic thing, I've been there, and decided to take advantage of that and write a fic about it. This takes place immediately after Sydney leaves the office at the end of "The Counteragent", and includes major spoilers for that episode. Also, muchos gracias to my beta, Saavikam. I'm in your debt.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Something To Live For
~*~*~*~*~*~
How could this have happened?
I had been so sure of myself, so sure of my feelings. So sure of his feelings for me in return. How couldn't it be true? I've seen the glances, even though most of the time I credited it to my imagination. As time passed, I became more sure of their meaning. And when he was in that bed, dying of a disease controlled by my mother. I was ready to do anything to ensure that he would make it. Holding onto his hand was like holding onto a hope that I would fiercely defend. That hope was shattered as Vaughn was rolled into the OR, as that woman approached me. I became Rita Stevens, part of the State Department's Bureau of Arms Control, a person who had suddenly gotten a very bad feeling about that woman.
She introduced herself as Alice. I knew her name even before she told me. He'd said they had gone separate ways, and I guess I never expected they'd get back together. I never asked, so why should he bring it up? Just come to work and go, "How's your love life Vaughn?" "Great, Syd! Guess what! I got back together with Alice!" "Congratulations!" Right.
Still, there's a part of me that screams injustice, that something should've happened differently from the way that it did. I should have known that someone like Vaughn wouldn't be alone for long. I should've known.
I don't understand and yet I do.
Standing there in the chamber, feeling the ammonium fluoride chloride being sprayed off my skin with icy jets, I questioned myself, just once. Was it really worth it? Of course, I knew that answer. Even if it had been someone else, it was human life, no emotional attachments involved. But it was for Vaughn that I would run the extra mile. My father said that I had never considered premeditated murder before getting to know my mother. True as it is, he was wrong. If I had had a chance to save Danny, if it would have been down to me plotting out and destroying the assassin that would kill him, I would've done it.
Emotions are strange things. They make us into something we're not, at the same time shaping who we are. At times its hard for me to know who Sydney Bristow really is. I do know one thing, though. It was for Vaughn that I had collaborated with the enemy, and that I had willingly partaken in Sloane's murder. That I had plotted his death almost gleefully. This man had killed my fiancé and countless others, including his own wife. In all respects he deserved death and much much worse, and I was prepared to do the honors.
Given the chance to do things over, I don't think I'd do anything differently.
Finding out that Sark was now part of the Alliance, that we'd be working together, I couldn't help but grimace. There was something important in that letter, something I now fear will destroy my position as double agent. Sark knows practically everything, and everything depends on him.
I fear for my father. Sloane trusts him, but if Sark reveals the truth, we're both finished. It will be because of me. I was desperate enough to trigger the alarms, knowing full the consequences and being desperate enough to risk them. And for what? Sloane had killed the one man I loved. After he was buried, I swore to myself I'd never let myself love anyone the way that I did Danny. That fell through, as most promises of the human heart do. I killed Sloane for the man I now love. He forbids himself to love me back; government regulations. Who wrote that rule, anyway? I'd like to know.
Now, unlocking the door to my apartment, the façade drops into nonexistence as I step back into my "normal life." There's a note from Francie on the counter, and the flashing light on the phone tells me there's a message. I look at the clock: three in the afternoon. Good. Francie doesn't close up until ten, and Will is out. I wonder if he's gotten anywhere on Vaughn's assignment.
Christmas. Such a nice holiday.
"Sydney, that you?"
Will. What is he doing here? Why, of all days, did he have to come early today?
Pray god my make-up hasn't run. He speaks as he walks into the kitchen, as I'm wiping the moisture from my eyes. "You're home early today."
"So are you." Objective thinking, objective thinking. Get to the bathroom. "I'm feeling a bit under the weather and decided to take the rest of the day off to get some rest."
"Good thinking. Wouldn't want it to grow into something worse." He leans against the counter, arms folded across his chest. "You know that assignment I'm doing? That Christmas project you and Vaughn are so excited about?"
Leave it to Will to draw things out. "Yeah, what about it?"
"The test for 1982 was switched. Saw the guy who designed the questions for the test, who had a copy of the print that was distributed. Evidently he hadn't checked over that copy, which I think is actually quite surreal," he catches my look, hurrying on with his description, "and apparently questions were added to the test after he sent it off. Sydney, that test was given to over five million kids."
"I took that test," I murmur, my mind elsewhere. "The one with the rainbows-"
"Yeah," he shakes his head. "I can't believe I've actually done something right for once. Hey, is Vaughn still at the office?"
I nod yes, turning to my escape. I shut the bathroom door and lock it, my ear to the door. Sounds of Will picking up the receiver and dialing. Seconds later he is talking, apparently to Vaughn. Seconds after that, I'm on the floor, tears coursing my face. He had someone in his life already. There could never be anything between us. And if my father hadn't put me through those tests, none of this would be happening. I'd be married, a teacher.
Repetition isn't a worry. I need the reasons for the pain in my chest. I need the reasons that should explain why I was rocking myself for comfort, in the dark, trying to muffle my sobs. The void that Danny's murder had left was back with a vengeance, and with it, the need to be a part of something greater. But the reasons had vanished into something that didn't make sense and weren't enough for me. All I could picture was his face, all I could hear were his words. Then came the pictures of my mother, and the family I had never had. Anger replaced the hurt, leaving me smoldering on the fuzzy floor mat adorned with zigzagging blue stripes that I couldn't see in the dark.
I sit there for a long while. I don't exactly know how long, only that when I finally swallow the lump in my throat and try to sit up, the door is cracked open. Light streams in on my face, and I can feel someone watching me. "Syd?"
I wasn't able to silence myself. He must've heard me.
The ceiling light comes on, and for a second I am blinded. I squint, trying to shield my eyes and collect myself. Will kneels beside me, turning my face towards him. His eyes search mine, concern and worry etched in green. Callused fingers touch my cheek, wiping a wet trail of tears. All exactly the way I'd dreamed Vaughn would have done.
I shake my head, shutting it out.
"Hey," his whisper is accompanied by a small smile. "You don't have to tell me what's wrong."
"It hurts, Will," I choke out in a barely audible tone, my voice squeaking and crackling. I feel my face crumble again, tears returning for another round.
A simple nod and I'm surrounded by arms, giving off a warmth of friendship and love. Once again I'm in tears, crying for something I can't do a thing about. But this time, I'm not alone. He rocks me, whispering encouragement to me, things I don't really hear. Just knowing that I'm not alone is enough right now. Isolation is something I fear will be a part of my life all too often in the future. This one moment, this very moment that I'm with someone who knows the truth about me and who cares. this is what I live for.
END
~*~*~*~*~*~
Reviews are greatly appreciated! I've only had this posted for two days and already I'm back for editing and nitpicking that I missed before. It was a lot harder that I thought it would be to write in the present tense, as I generally stick to past tense, third person. I did this to quell the obsession I've developed for the show, and how angry I am at Vaughn. The fact that we have to wait two weeks for the next episode doesn't help me either. Oh, and also note that Will is there only as a comforting friend(although it's quite obvious he'd love to be more). I stress the fact that he's *only* a friend. Even with most recent developments, I'm S/V all the way. May the shippers stay true!
Oh, and also, idk about writing another. I'm not too good at writing things unless I really feel strongly about them, like I did with this one. This story was an act of God, and I really don't know about another. We'll see.
Author : Miss B
Rating : PG
E-mail : greenfairy1899@hotmail.com
Archive : If you want. Just email me first.
Disclaimer : This is a short little diddy I did, my very first Alias fanfic. I'm one who focuses on immediate angst and tries to investigate and dig a little deeper, to try and put myself into a character's position and think of what I would do. Where Syd is going with the whole romantic thing, I've been there, and decided to take advantage of that and write a fic about it. This takes place immediately after Sydney leaves the office at the end of "The Counteragent", and includes major spoilers for that episode. Also, muchos gracias to my beta, Saavikam. I'm in your debt.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Something To Live For
~*~*~*~*~*~
How could this have happened?
I had been so sure of myself, so sure of my feelings. So sure of his feelings for me in return. How couldn't it be true? I've seen the glances, even though most of the time I credited it to my imagination. As time passed, I became more sure of their meaning. And when he was in that bed, dying of a disease controlled by my mother. I was ready to do anything to ensure that he would make it. Holding onto his hand was like holding onto a hope that I would fiercely defend. That hope was shattered as Vaughn was rolled into the OR, as that woman approached me. I became Rita Stevens, part of the State Department's Bureau of Arms Control, a person who had suddenly gotten a very bad feeling about that woman.
She introduced herself as Alice. I knew her name even before she told me. He'd said they had gone separate ways, and I guess I never expected they'd get back together. I never asked, so why should he bring it up? Just come to work and go, "How's your love life Vaughn?" "Great, Syd! Guess what! I got back together with Alice!" "Congratulations!" Right.
Still, there's a part of me that screams injustice, that something should've happened differently from the way that it did. I should have known that someone like Vaughn wouldn't be alone for long. I should've known.
I don't understand and yet I do.
Standing there in the chamber, feeling the ammonium fluoride chloride being sprayed off my skin with icy jets, I questioned myself, just once. Was it really worth it? Of course, I knew that answer. Even if it had been someone else, it was human life, no emotional attachments involved. But it was for Vaughn that I would run the extra mile. My father said that I had never considered premeditated murder before getting to know my mother. True as it is, he was wrong. If I had had a chance to save Danny, if it would have been down to me plotting out and destroying the assassin that would kill him, I would've done it.
Emotions are strange things. They make us into something we're not, at the same time shaping who we are. At times its hard for me to know who Sydney Bristow really is. I do know one thing, though. It was for Vaughn that I had collaborated with the enemy, and that I had willingly partaken in Sloane's murder. That I had plotted his death almost gleefully. This man had killed my fiancé and countless others, including his own wife. In all respects he deserved death and much much worse, and I was prepared to do the honors.
Given the chance to do things over, I don't think I'd do anything differently.
Finding out that Sark was now part of the Alliance, that we'd be working together, I couldn't help but grimace. There was something important in that letter, something I now fear will destroy my position as double agent. Sark knows practically everything, and everything depends on him.
I fear for my father. Sloane trusts him, but if Sark reveals the truth, we're both finished. It will be because of me. I was desperate enough to trigger the alarms, knowing full the consequences and being desperate enough to risk them. And for what? Sloane had killed the one man I loved. After he was buried, I swore to myself I'd never let myself love anyone the way that I did Danny. That fell through, as most promises of the human heart do. I killed Sloane for the man I now love. He forbids himself to love me back; government regulations. Who wrote that rule, anyway? I'd like to know.
Now, unlocking the door to my apartment, the façade drops into nonexistence as I step back into my "normal life." There's a note from Francie on the counter, and the flashing light on the phone tells me there's a message. I look at the clock: three in the afternoon. Good. Francie doesn't close up until ten, and Will is out. I wonder if he's gotten anywhere on Vaughn's assignment.
Christmas. Such a nice holiday.
"Sydney, that you?"
Will. What is he doing here? Why, of all days, did he have to come early today?
Pray god my make-up hasn't run. He speaks as he walks into the kitchen, as I'm wiping the moisture from my eyes. "You're home early today."
"So are you." Objective thinking, objective thinking. Get to the bathroom. "I'm feeling a bit under the weather and decided to take the rest of the day off to get some rest."
"Good thinking. Wouldn't want it to grow into something worse." He leans against the counter, arms folded across his chest. "You know that assignment I'm doing? That Christmas project you and Vaughn are so excited about?"
Leave it to Will to draw things out. "Yeah, what about it?"
"The test for 1982 was switched. Saw the guy who designed the questions for the test, who had a copy of the print that was distributed. Evidently he hadn't checked over that copy, which I think is actually quite surreal," he catches my look, hurrying on with his description, "and apparently questions were added to the test after he sent it off. Sydney, that test was given to over five million kids."
"I took that test," I murmur, my mind elsewhere. "The one with the rainbows-"
"Yeah," he shakes his head. "I can't believe I've actually done something right for once. Hey, is Vaughn still at the office?"
I nod yes, turning to my escape. I shut the bathroom door and lock it, my ear to the door. Sounds of Will picking up the receiver and dialing. Seconds later he is talking, apparently to Vaughn. Seconds after that, I'm on the floor, tears coursing my face. He had someone in his life already. There could never be anything between us. And if my father hadn't put me through those tests, none of this would be happening. I'd be married, a teacher.
Repetition isn't a worry. I need the reasons for the pain in my chest. I need the reasons that should explain why I was rocking myself for comfort, in the dark, trying to muffle my sobs. The void that Danny's murder had left was back with a vengeance, and with it, the need to be a part of something greater. But the reasons had vanished into something that didn't make sense and weren't enough for me. All I could picture was his face, all I could hear were his words. Then came the pictures of my mother, and the family I had never had. Anger replaced the hurt, leaving me smoldering on the fuzzy floor mat adorned with zigzagging blue stripes that I couldn't see in the dark.
I sit there for a long while. I don't exactly know how long, only that when I finally swallow the lump in my throat and try to sit up, the door is cracked open. Light streams in on my face, and I can feel someone watching me. "Syd?"
I wasn't able to silence myself. He must've heard me.
The ceiling light comes on, and for a second I am blinded. I squint, trying to shield my eyes and collect myself. Will kneels beside me, turning my face towards him. His eyes search mine, concern and worry etched in green. Callused fingers touch my cheek, wiping a wet trail of tears. All exactly the way I'd dreamed Vaughn would have done.
I shake my head, shutting it out.
"Hey," his whisper is accompanied by a small smile. "You don't have to tell me what's wrong."
"It hurts, Will," I choke out in a barely audible tone, my voice squeaking and crackling. I feel my face crumble again, tears returning for another round.
A simple nod and I'm surrounded by arms, giving off a warmth of friendship and love. Once again I'm in tears, crying for something I can't do a thing about. But this time, I'm not alone. He rocks me, whispering encouragement to me, things I don't really hear. Just knowing that I'm not alone is enough right now. Isolation is something I fear will be a part of my life all too often in the future. This one moment, this very moment that I'm with someone who knows the truth about me and who cares. this is what I live for.
END
~*~*~*~*~*~
Reviews are greatly appreciated! I've only had this posted for two days and already I'm back for editing and nitpicking that I missed before. It was a lot harder that I thought it would be to write in the present tense, as I generally stick to past tense, third person. I did this to quell the obsession I've developed for the show, and how angry I am at Vaughn. The fact that we have to wait two weeks for the next episode doesn't help me either. Oh, and also note that Will is there only as a comforting friend(although it's quite obvious he'd love to be more). I stress the fact that he's *only* a friend. Even with most recent developments, I'm S/V all the way. May the shippers stay true!
Oh, and also, idk about writing another. I'm not too good at writing things unless I really feel strongly about them, like I did with this one. This story was an act of God, and I really don't know about another. We'll see.