Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Alias. They belong to ABC and J.J. Abrams. I own only the characters that have not appeared on Alias and none of my storylines will be used in upcoming episodes.
Spoilers: Maybe…
A/N: This is my first Alias fan fiction and I apologize if some of my facts are out of place.
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Sydney Bristow warily trudged through the door of her home. She was hoping that Francie wouldn't be around that evening.
"Francie, are you here?" Sydney called out, pulling off her coat and dropping it on the floor. When she didn't hear a reply, she plopped herself down on the couch and sighed.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I wake up in the morning
Put on my face
The one that's gonna get me
Through another day
Doesn't really matter
How I feel inside
This life is like a game sometimes
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Fourteen days. It had been exactly fourteen days since Sydney had left Taipei and her mother. Fourteen days since Vaughn had…since Vaughn had died. Sydney shuddered at her last thought. She closed her eyes and tried to think of something happy. Again, she thought of Vaughn. Her bottom lip began to tremble and she sniffled.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Then you came around me
The walls just disappeared
Nothing to surround me
Keep me from my fears
I'm unprotected
See how I've opened up
You've made me trust
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
She just couldn't believe that he was gone. She blamed herself, of course. After all, she had led him to certain death. What had she been thinking? He had been her friend, her confidante, her guardian angel, her love…love? Yes, Sydney thought to herself, I loved him. She only regretted that she realized it now when it was too late. But no…she'd always known…it was always there in the back of her mind. She just never let herself release the feeling for the knowledge of what consequences it would bring.
She lay her head down on the armrest and began to lightly cry. The ringing of the phone, however, caused her to sit back up again. As the phone continued to ring, Sydney willed it to stop. When it didn't, she forced herself to gain composure. She took a few deep breaths and picked up of the phone.
"Hello?" she answered in an inaudible, raspy voice. She cleared her throat and asked again, clearly, "Hello?"
"Joey's Pizza?" a voice asked. Vaughn's voice.
Sydney blinked at the question before fully comprehending it. A smile slowly crept across her face as she replied before hanging up, "Wrong number."
She let out a half laugh and a half sigh of happiness, shock, and relief. She quickly stood up, grabbed her dropped coat, and bolted out the door. When she saw the taxi waiting outside her door, her smile widened. She ran to the car and jumped into the backseat.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I've never felt like this before
I'm naked around you
Does it show?
You see right though me
And I can't hide
I'm naked around you
And it feels so right
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When the car pulled up in front of the familiar warehouse, Sydney hesitated before climbing out of the car. She though about what she would say while thousands of emotions and questions ran through her mind. She halted abruptly when she saw him. His back was turned toward her and it was one of the few times he wasn't wearing a suit. She walked closer to him, very well aware that the clicking of her heels had already given away her presence. She put her hand on his shoulder and he turned.
His beautiful green eyes were sparkling with tears of joy. Joy of seeing Sydney again, of course. She frowned when she saw the malicious, purple bruise surrounding his left eye. She touched the bruise only slightly, but it was enough to make Vaughn wince. She pulled away, but returned her hand to his face, this time lightly brushing his roughly bruised cheek.
"Oh, God," she whispered, lowering her head and taking a tiny step back.
He gave her a small smile.
"You know," she said a little louder, "I never thought I'd be so happy to hear the words 'Joey's Pizza' in my life."
He chuckled lightly. Sydney shook her head.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
Vaughn cocked his head. "It depends on what you're definition of 'okay' is."
He inadvertently clutched his stomach. Sydney noticed his motion, but decided not to pursue the matter at that moment.
"God, Vaughn, I thought you were…"
"I know," he interrupted, his voice soft, "I thought I was, too."
"How?"
"I'll tell you all about it later," he promised. "What's important now is that I'm here with you and I get to look at you again."
Sydney tried to hold back her tears, and before she could stop herself, she moved closer to her handler and gave him a loose hug. He put his head down on her shoulder and rubbed her back. She tightened her hold, but let go when she heard him groan. She stepped away again and looked up at him.
"What's wrong?"
"Uh, nothing," Vaughn replied, "it's just a little sore."
Sydney raised her eyebrows, not believing his statement.
Seeing her doubtful expression, he added, "Really, Sydney, I'm fine. A doctor checked me out. You don't have to worry."
She bit her lip and relented. "Okay…well, have you talked to Devlin yet?"
Vaughn shook his head. "No, I just got back to L.A. yesterday. But Devlin knows I'm back. Weiss told him. I'll probably be meeting with him tomorrow."
"So…you and Weiss are on speaking terms?" Sydney asked tentatively.
Vaughn shrugged. "I guess we should start. Considering what he did."
Sydney gave him a questioning look.
"Later, Sydney, I promise," he assured her. He shrugged again. "Anyway, I'm just glad you're okay. I called your place about fifty thousand times, but uh…nobody answered. I was getting worried."
"Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly hanging around the phone waiting for your call," she joked. "I mean, I've been thinking you were dead for two weeks. And hey, why didn't you just beep me?"
"I wanted to hear your voice," he answered sincerely. "Even if it was just two little words."
She smiled, deeply touched at his words.
"So…where were you all day?" Vaughn jokingly interrogated.
"I was at Will's," she replied quietly.
"Oh," he murmured, his tone dropping considerably. "Uh, so how is Tippin, anyway?"
"Well, we got him out. That's the important thing. But I guess he's doing okay, especially considering all that he's been through."
Vaughn nodded as he listened.
"He's still trying to digest all of this, though. He's not really sure what he's going to do yet, but…" she trailed.
"But what?"
"Well, he has definitely made the decision that he doesn't want to join the protection program, which I totally understand…but I think he's seriously considering joining the CIA."
Vaughn sighed to himself. "And you have a problem with that?"
Sydney began to pace. "Well, yes…think about it, Vaughn. One minute, he's just a guy doing his job, thinking everything's fine, and the next, he finds out that I've been lying right to his face every time I talked to him and then he's in a strange place getting tortured by men who actually gain pleasure from causing people pain!"
Vaughn remained quiet for a moment while Sydney stopped and catch her breath. He bit his lip.
"Uh, yeah, I think I met those people," he said, trying to take her mind off of Will, but immediately realizing his mistake.
Sydney looked into the pained eyes of her friend. "What did that bitch do to you, Vaughn?"
He tried to look her in the eye, but quickly averted his gaze from her worried stare.
"Uh, well…" he started.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
FLASHBACK
"Wake up, Mr. Vaughn."
Vaughn heard the voice call out to him, but he didn't reply. His clothes were drenched, he was freezing, he was sore all over, and his throat was burning. He could feel cold, hard metal beneath him and tried to remember what had happened. He didn't open his eyes, for he was afraid of where he might find himself and who he would be looking at.
"Mr. Vaughn, I don't have all day, so do us both a favor and open your eyes," the voice ordered, emphasizing the last three words.
He decided to obey and his eyelids flew open. He blinked a few times to clear his vision. He tried to sit up, but was pulled back. He looked to his side to see himself strapped to a metal bed. He looked around at his surroundings. He was in a dark, dirty room with a large, metal door, a metal table off to the side, and a metal tray covered with a cloth on top of the table. Metal, metal, metal, he thought to himself. He forced himself back to reality and looked up to see the owner of the voice looking down at him and wearing a look of amusement on her face. Vaughn furrowed his eyebrows. This woman's face somehow looked familiar…
"Welcome back to the real world, Mr. Vaughn," she said.
Vaughn opened his mouth to speak, but his parched throat prevented it.
She smiled. "What's wrong, agent? Swallow something you shouldn't have?"
He fought the intense burning feeling in his throat to say, "You…you're Sydney's mother."
It was more of a statement than a question, but as a question is how the woman chose to interpret it.
"Oh, aren't you such the smart young man? Yes, Mr. Vaughn, I am Sydney's mother. But you must know that I have long since left my alias of Laura Bristow behind. I now go by Irina Derevko."
"You…you bitch," Vaughn spat angrily.
Irina's smile, which greatly resembled Sydney's, immediately melted into a frown. "Come again?"
"You killed my father."
"Yes, yes, I did, and if you don't watch that mouth of yours, you'll soon suffer the same fate," she threatened. She smirked when Vaughn didn't reply. She sighed, almost blissfully. "That would be ironic, wouldn't it? Father and son share the same death by the same person."
Vaughn shot daggers at her with his eyes but she didn't notice.
"You know," she continued, "I was the last one to talk to your father before I killed him. Well, that's redundant, because…oh, you're an intelligent boy; you know what I'm saying. Like I was saying, we had a nice chat, William and I. Although it must not have been so pleasant for him because I was holding him at gunpoint and he was begging for his life."
Vaughn cringed at the carefree way Irina was speaking about his father's death…his murder.
"Do you want to know what he was talking about? His family." She started to pace around his "bed" and continued, "Yes, he told me about his wife and how much he cared for her…how much she meant to him…how much she needed him and vice versa. It was quite heartwarming. Oh, and is son. If I recall, your name is Michael, correct?"
Vaughn nodded, though he wasn't quite sure why.
"Right, right…you were, what, seven years old?"
"Eight," he corrected bitterly.
"Oh, that's right…eight-year-old Michael. Between you and me, your father's pleas actually made me feel quite guilty later."
"Please stop," Vaughn whispered.
"He wanted to see his family one last time, I'm sure," Irina said, ignoring Vaughn completely. "I suppose I would, too. But do you want to hear the funny part, Michael? I almost let him go. In the end, I decided not to, obviously, but I was damn close. But an order is an order, after all. So I killed him."
"Damn it, stop," Vaughn urged.
"I shot him right here," she told him harshly, gesturing toward the center of her forehead. "Right in the middle of his head. It was quite gruesome, but…"
"SHUT UP!" Vaughn exclaimed loudly.
Irina stopped. She looked down at him as a look of anger spread across her face. She signaled for someone to come in.
"It's quite a shame, Mr. Vaughn, that my daughter formed such a fond attachment to you," Irina commented, "because unfortunately, she'll never have the chance to see you again."
She looked up at the two large men who had entered the room. Vaughn could tell that one of them was holding something, but he couldn't quite make out what it was from his position.
"You know what to do," Irina murmured to them. Both men nodded in reply.
"Wha…what are you doing?" Vaughn asked nervously.
"Oh, just asking some question," she replied, unbuckling the restraints holding Vaughn's upper body down. She pulled the dazed and confused man into a sitting position. She nodded her head toward the direction of the men. "If you answer my questions, no harm will come to you. Now, I don't want to have to hurt you, I really don't. But if that's what it takes to get what I want, I'll have it done. So tell me, Michael…who is the SD-6 mole?"
Vaughn was caught off-guard at the question, but he tried not to show his surprise. "What mole?" he replied.
Irina pursed her lips. "There's no time for games, Mr. Vaughn. Now, I'll ask you again: who is the SD-6 mole?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," he answered.
"Mr. Vaughn," she said coldly, but calmly, "my patience is running thin. I'm going to give you one more chance. Tell me which agent is the SD-6 mole or I guarantee that you will be sorry."
Vaughn shivered. Whether it was from his cold, wet clothes or Irina's tone, he didn't know, but he sure as hell wasn't going to show this woman that she intimidated him.
"There is no SD-6 mole," Vaughn told her, raising his chin defiantly.
She sighed sadly. "Fine, have it your way," she said, snapping her fingers and moving off to the side.
The two men rushed toward him and unbuckled the rest of Vaughn's restraints. One of them roughly grabbed him and pulled him off the table. The other, who was holding a long, iron bar, Vaughn could now see, slowly and threateningly made his way around the bed and toward the fearful agent.
Vaughn's eyes widened as the realization that he could very well be killed right then and there came over him. As the man with the iron bar made contact with Vaughn's abdomen, he cried out in pain. He felt another blow…and another…and another…and another…he began to lose track of how many times he was being hit. He felt hot tears run down his face and with every blow, he slumped closer to the floor. Finally, when he wasn't able to stand, the man holding him up threw him to the floor. Before Vaughn blocked out, he could hear the light chuckling of Irina…
Every day they pulled another way of torture out of their sleeves. Whether it was a beating, an injection, or actually cutting into his skin with a scalpel, each time they came into the room, Vaughn had been sure he was going to die. He didn't know how he was still standing. He knew that he shouldn't be able to. Quite frankly, he didn't even know how he had survived twelve days of endless pain. He did know, however, that somewhere during that week, he had lost practically all hope of ever leaving Taipei. That is, until…
END FLASHBACK
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Nothing," he lied. "They, uh…they didn't do anything too horrible." He shook his head in an attempt to drive the thoughts and memories of his torture in Taipei away. Unfortunately, he failed miserably.
"Vaughn?" Sydney prodded, gently laying her hand on his arm.
"I'm fine," he said, faltering.
"Are you sure?"
No! Vaughn's mind cried out. He wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to tell her how much emotion and physical trauma these people had caused him. He wanted to cry on shoulder and spill out his feelings. But he couldn't. He didn't want to be yet another burden in her over-hectic life. He wasn't her responsibility…she was his. And he most definitely didn't have the heart to tell her how much pain her mother had thrown upon him. She shouldn't have to hear again what a monster her mother truly was.
"Yeah, I'm sure," he replied.
"I'm sorry," she said suddenly.
Vaughn raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
"Because of me, you almost drowned."
Vaughn shook his head vigorously. "No! No, Sydney, don't talk like that. Don't do this to yourself…don't blame yourself."
Tears rolled down her cheek. "I don't know who else to blame," she whispered meekly.
Vaughn blinked. He bit his lip and told her, "Blame me, Sydney. It was my own fault that I went down there in the first place. Blame me."
He pulled her into another hug, this time ignoring the extreme pain in his ribs.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Trying to remember
Why I was afraid
To be myself around you
And let the covers fall away
Guess I never had someone like you
To help me fit
In my skin
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Vaughn?" she whispered into his ear.
"Hmm?"
"Who brought you back from Taipei?"
Vaughn hesitated. He wasn't supposed to tell her. He was supposed to keep it a secret until it was seen fit to let her know…but he had already lied to her enough that night.
"Your father," he replied. "And Weiss."
She pulled away from him and looked at him in surprise.
"What?"
Vaughn nodded. "He didn't want me to tell you. I guess he wanted to tell you himself…........"
"Why didn't he ask me to help?" she asked, beginning to get upset.
"I…I don't know…" Vaughn stammered.
Her expression softened. She gave him a half smile. "I'm sorry, it's just…........"
"It's okay," he said, cutting her off. "I understand."
A look of seriousness overcame her face. She stared deeply into his eyes. He tried to control the heavy breathing he knew was coming.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
Sydney took a deep breath. "Um, this is kind of hard for me to say."
Vaughn started to become concerned. "What?"
"Vaughn, I realized something while…......well, I realized that I really and truly…"
RING! RING! RING!
They were interrupted by Sydney's cell phone. Both she and Vaughn quietly cursed to themselves. She grabbed her phone in frustration and answered it.
"What?" she demanded.
She sighed. "No, Will, I'll………yes, I am busy………I don't think you understand, I'm in the middle of………no………no, I can't, I………fine………fine, I'll be there. Will, I'll………yes, I'll be there, okay? Bye."
She groaned in frustration and gave Vaughn an apologetic look.
Vaughn gave her a smile and nodded in understanding. "You should go. It sounds important."
She smiled back at him gratefully. "I am so sorry."
He waved his hand through the air. "Hey, it's fine. We can continue this later."
She sighed happily and studied his bruised face. "God, I'm so glad you're alive. And I'm glad that I got to see you tonight."
Vaughn reached out for her hand and she returned it. He lifted it to his stitched lips and kissed it. He didn't notice, but Sydney blushed immensely. "I'm glad, too, Sydney," he said to her. "You have no idea."
On impulse, Sydney suddenly leaned forward and kissed Vaughn on the cheek. This time, it was his turn to blush. She realized what she did and began to feel embarrassed. She bit her lip, and took quick glances at the ground.
"Uh, I'll see you later," she said quickly. She gave his hand a last squeeze, gave him another smile, and turned to walk out of the warehouse.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I've never felt like this before
I'm naked around you
Does it show?
You see right through me
And I can't hide
I'm naked around you
And it feels so right
© Avril Lavigne
"Naked"
Arista Records
Let Go, 2002
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