Disclaimers: I don't own them. Alias is owned by JJ Abrams and Co. The song is owned by the Barenaked Ladies.
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Distribution: FF.net, SD-1 and Cover Me
Summary: This was inspired by all the people who thought that Vaughn owed Alice her happiness. This is their break up.
The Flag
The phone rings, it's early, it's seven o'clock,
He says, "Sorry I woke you, but I just had to talk.
You know last night, remember, when I tried to choke you?
I didn't mean it, I was drunk, it was only a joke.
You should know that by now,
When the checkered flag comes down,
No one, no one, no one has won the race.
Alice rolled over to the shrill sound of her telephone. She tried to ignore it, the pounding of her head demanding more sleep but whoever it was kept ringing. Brrrrrrring. Brrrrrrring.
"Hello?" she said finally, picking up the phone in a sleep-induced fog.
"Hi Alice." The male voice on the other end greeted her. "I uh…I think we should talk."
The fog started to roll away, but the pounding in her head intensified. "Michael," she stated matter-of-factly in answer to her own unspoken question. Her tongue felt like sandpaper. "Do we need to talk now? It must be 6 o'clock in the morning." She was shocked at how rough her voice sounded. Her thoughts drifted; Maybe I've swallowed my bed sheets?
"Uh, well its noon. Sorry if I woke you. I just wanted to sort out what happened last night."
Alice let her head fall back into her pillow cradling the phone with her hand against her ear. His sharp, crisp words made her slow mumbles appear stupid. Last night was clouded in the same fog that her senses were but she did remember a few images.
"Alice?"
She remembered a vase with roses. White roses. White roses for pure love. She remembered Michael on the phone, broken glass on the floor and glass of red wine sitting on a table. And she saw the wine glass tipping over onto the white table cloth spilling its liquid and she remembered that it had looked like blood.
"Last night." She repeated his statement. The pounding in her head was replaced by a wave of nausea as she tried to sit up. Blood on the tablecloth, she thought ruefully and wondered whom it belonged to. Did I bleed last night, she asked herself, or did he?
"Alice?"
"Yeah, I'm here. Can you wait a minute, I need to get a glass of water?" Alice laid the phone on her bed without waiting for a response. She heard him talking as she got off the bed but continued towards the washroom without looking back.
She turned on the light in her washroom and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Wow, I really look like shit, she thought. She brushed her teeth and splashed some water on her face. After she filled a small plastic cup with water from the tap she laid her head against the wall as she waited for her stomach to accept the liquid.
Last night they had gone to her sister's house for a dinner party. It was supposed to have been a small party, just a few friends and their dates: Cindy and John, Tracy and Paul, her sister Lisa and her husband Dave. Her and Michael. It was supposed to have been a fun evening, a getaway from the grief of the last few weeks. A Valentine celebration. She hadn't really wanted to go but Lisa had insisted. She shrugged her shoulders. Last night was supposed to have been about feeling normal again. Being a normal couple, doing what normal couples do.
It had started out normal enough, she remembered slowly. He had picked her up. No, he hadn't given her any flowers and she remembered feeling slightly disappointed. He hasn't given me flowers in a while, she thought. But she had accepted it; he was a busy guy after all. Plus she knew he loved her; he told her so whenever she said it to him. But he never says it first. She shook her head to banish the quiet voice.
Lisa had greeted them at the door and shown them in. Dave had poured her a glass of red wine; Michael had had a beer. Cindy and John had already arrived and were describing their wonderful trip to Mexico. She remembered how John had put his arm around Cindy when she was describing a funny story about the hotel they had stayed at. She didn't remember their story…something about room service and a pair of socks…but she vaguely remembered feeling a touch of jealousy when John touched Cindy's hair after she had finished talking. He had brushed a stray curl from her eyes and then caressed the back of her head allowing her to lean into him.
She remembered looking over to see where Michael had gone and saw him chatting with Dave about the hockey game last night.
She lifted herself off the bathroom wall and walked back to her bedroom. The phone lay tangled in her sheets and she had to follow the cord to untangle it.
"Ok, I'm back."
"I could have called you back," Michael responded with a touch of annoyance.
"Well, I'm fine now, thanks. I just needed some water."
"Look, about last night--"
"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me Michael."
"You threw a vase at me!"
Alice remembered the vase. The vase with the white roses. Lisa had explained that Dave had bought them for her for Valentine's Day. Lisa had been so touched that he hadn't bought red ones because he thought they were too common so he had bought her a dozen white roses. The color was supposed to symbolize pure love.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "Maybe I just had too much to drink, judging by the headache I have this morning."
"Alice, you know that my work is pretty important. I can't help it if sometimes I get calls that I have to take or if I get called in to work suddenly--"
"I know." She was at a loss. How could she explain how empty she'd been feeling lately when they were together? How could she tell him that she craved to have her hair touched like John had touched Cindy's or to have him look at her like Dave had looked at Lisa? The evening had been going well, Lisa had refilled her wine glass several times. At the time Alice suspected that it was on purpose; a little bit of wine to help take away the grief. And then his cell phone had rung.
From the moment she had heard its soft ring she had seen a subtle change come over him. She didn't understand today what those changes had been and she certainly hadn't understood it last night. All she knew was that he had moved to answer it so quickly. He had put his beer down with a precision of movement that indicated a purpose. He had moved away from Dave to have his conversation and he had moved his body like someone important. She had felt so proud to have him at that moment. Proud because she had a boyfriend that was important and competent. Someone who could handle important issues and who had the confidence to know that he was right. She watched him throughout the conversation, holding this awe about him close to her heart. All too soon, he ended his phone call and glance up at her. In that instant she had seen his persona change yet again. His posture relaxed and he gave her a small smile. He turned to pick up his beer and walked slowly towards her. He stopped to pick up the glass of wine that she had put on the table.
"Do you love me?" she asked suddenly back in the present, cutting Michael off in mid-sentence.
"Of course I do. Does this have anything to do with last night?"
"No…" replied Alice unsure of her answer. After his phone call last night, he had given her back her glass of wine and she had asked him who had called. He had told her that it wasn't anything important and continued to drink his beer. She'd felt this incredible certainty that it wasn't that he thought she'd be uninterested in the answer, but rather that he'd be uninterested in her response to his answer. She'd felt her smile drop and a small ball of anger forming in her chest. No, I want to know, she had asked him. He didn't put down his beer to talk to her, like he had done for his caller. In fact, he took another sip from it before turning towards her with a confused look on his face. What's the problem he asked her. She'd put her wine glass back down on the table and stepped away from him. Instinctively, he followed her and tried to catch her eyes but she had been staring at the vase in the centre of the table. Twelve white roses for pure love.
"Well what happened then?"
Alice snapped back to the present. "I—I'm sorry, I just don't know. When I knocked over my glass and spilled all the wine on their beautiful table cloth…I felt so bad…"
"So you broke their vase?" She could hear Michael's calm voice betraying a quiet anger.
"I'm sorry!" Alice shouted. "I was upset before hand. You don't let me in! You treat me like…like I'm a habit, but one that you're not even particularly fond of. And then I spilled my wine because I was trying to get away from you. I was so mad that I ruined their tablecloth, I started to cry and all you did was clean up the mess! What about me! What about the tears that I cried?"
"Are you saying last night was my fault?"
"Never mind. I don't know what I'm saying--"
"And what do you mean you were trying to get away from me?" Michael interrupted her.
"Nothing! Look, never mind. I feel horrible. Can I call you back later? I feel awful."
Michael sighed reluctantly on the other end. "Sure. Call me when you're feeling a little bit better."
"Thanks."
"Sorry for waking you up."
"It's ok," replied Alice. And then she waited.
"Ok, well I'll talk to you later."
"Ok."
"Bye."
"Bye." Alice replaced the receiver and lay back down in her bed. She knew that there was something important that she was realizing but the pounding in her head distracted her. She decided to worry about it later and shut her eyes while pulling the blankets back over her head.
***
The next night he's over and over and under,
And after he's finished she lies there and wonders,
Just why does she need him, and why does she stay here,
And then in the darkness, he'll quietly say, "Dear,
You've never really known. That when the white flag is flown,
No one, no one, no one has won the war."
The stars are bright in the sky tonight
, thought Alice as she fluffed up her pillow. She could see their light through the crack where the two curtains met. She looked over to her left at Michael's slumbering form. His face was turned away from her but because she was sitting up she could see the right side of his face.He looks so serene.
It had been two days since the dinner party. She had called Mike back last night and they had talked, but it had seemed to her that they had talked about nothing important. She had apologized again and he had forgiven her. But somehow, for some reason, it seemed too simple to her. So tonight she had come over to his place unannounced to talk. To really talk. Michael hadn't seemed surprised to see her. He'd just opened the door casually and allowed her to come in. As if her presence here tonight had been foreseen. But they hadn't talked. He'd been watching the hockey game and he continued to watch it. It seemed that the only concession he gave her was to move over on the couch to give her some room to sit down.
Oh, and he offered me a slice of pizza, Alice reminded herself. I'm such a coward though. I fell right back into it. These roles that we've prescribed for ourselves, they're going to kill us. Maybe not physically but certainly emotionally. It was just so easy to sit back on the couch, pet the dog, try and cheer the hockey game. I don't even like hockey! But I love him so much. He's so smart, and sensitive and kind and cute. And he knows me so well. Maybe I don't inspire in him the kind of head-over-heels love that I wish I did. But I can live with this. At least I still have him. Besides that kind of madly-in-love feeling just makes you do stupid things and then it even fades after a while. Nobody stays madly-in-love forever and ever. Maybe we…
Maybe he just skipped that part.
Alice looked down at the covers. If she didn't look at him, it was harder to lie to herself. It was harder to ignore the constriction around her heart that seemed to be suffocating her.
I should leave. I can't stay here. I need to figure out what I want.
Driven by an inner strength she didn't know she had, she pulled back her side of the covers and gently lifted herself off the bed. She found her clothes in the dark and quietly put them on.
"Where are you going?"
Alice looked up startled. Michael had woken up and was propped up on an elbow looking at her in the starlight. There was a confused look on his face. "I should go, Michael."
"Why?"
"Because I…I need to sort myself out. I don't know what I want and when I'm here with you, I forget that I want anything. I'm sorry, I just gotta go." Alice busied herself with finding her missing sock.
"Alice wait--but I thought you wanted us?"
His question made her stand up and look at him, her missing sock in hand. "I do. More than I can tell you, I do." Alice realized her mistake too soon. She shouldn't have looked at him. His tousled hair, his confused and hurt expression on his face drew her to him like a magnet. She forced herself to settle for sitting next to him on his side of the bed.
"So what are you talking about?" he asked.
Alice paused. She didn't really know what she was talking about. All she knew was that her heart was breaking a little bit at a time. How could she explain that to him? She sighed and started at the only place she could, her grief still very much center in her mind. "I really miss my dad. He always knew what to do. He was such a smart man. And he loved me and my sister so very much."
She realized that her incomplete sentences were probably not making any sense but Michael's silence let her continue. "I have such fond memories of him, you know? I remember one summer, I must have been ten maybe, my sister was away at camp. My dad took me for a walk to the park. We went there often but I remember one day in particular as we were approaching the play area, I saw another little girl eyeing the tire swing. I saw her as she started moving towards it and I don't know why but I took off and beat her to it. She looked so sad as I threw myself on the tire, stomach first and started swinging. My dad must have seen it all because he called me over, away from the swing. I reluctantly got up off of it and went to him. He told me basically that just because I got there first didn't mean I really wanted the swing. He was right you know? The other little girl really wanted that swing. And though she would probably have waited patiently for me to get off, she had really won the race. She won because she knew what she wanted; she wanted to swing on that stupid tire. I just wanted to beat her to it. I probably would have made myself sick swinging on the stupid swing just to spite her. So my dad asked me what I wanted. I had to think about it. It was a pretty hard question to answer. I wanted lots of stuff, ice cream, to go swimming, to play in the sandbox, to go down the slide. What more does a ten year old want? So my dad sat down on the bench and told me to go ahead. Go swing on the swing, slide on the slide and do whatever I wanted."
Alice allowed herself a small pause before she continued. "But as I turned around to go back to the playground I stopped and I turned back and asked him if he was coming with me? He shook his head and told me to go on. And you know, I did. I slid and swung and I even bought myself an ice cream with my allowance. But as we were going home, I realized that though I'd had fun, I would have had much more fun if he'd come with me. I never told him that you know."
"It's ok, I'm sure that he knew." Michael tried to reassure her and put his hand on her arm.
Alice nodded, "Probably. He was a smart man. Michael can I ask you a question?"
He nodded.
"What do you want? I mean REALLY want, more than anything?"
She could see Michael freeze upon hearing her question. If she wasn't imagining it she could almost see a look of panic come across his face. She could see him struggle for words, but either he didn't know what to say or didn't want to say it to her because the silence continued. "Ok, let me rephrase the question. Do you want us? Do you want us more than anything?" Alice rushed through her question, afraid that she knew the answer already but had committed it to be spoken out loud.
"Alice, look you're upset…"
"No, answer my question! Do you want to be with me?"
"Of course!"
"More than anything?"
Silence. She could feel the tears starting to form and she knew that she had to leave now. She got up off the bed and put on her other sock. The action seemed to give her purpose and it stemmed the flow of tears.
"Alice, wait--"
"You bastard." Unfortunately her statement released her tears like a broken dam.
Michael threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. "Alice wait. I do want to be with you. We have a good time together, I'm sorry if that's not enough. I never wanted to hurt you."
Alice stopped at the doorway to the bedroom and turned around to face him. "Do you think I'm a bad person?"
"No, no, of course not. You are one of the nicest people I've ever met!"
"Then don't you think I deserve more than that? I never asked you not to hurt me. I don't want you to be nice to me! I want you to be the most selfish person in the world and want to be with me because YOU WANT to. I'm not some kind of charity."
Michael's mouth hung slightly opened in shock at her tirade. She used his silence to try and compose herself but her next statement was still spoken through tears. "Well I know what I want Michael. I want you to love me. I want you to love me so much that it hurts. I want you to want to touch me, caress me. I want you to think that I'm the most precious thing in the world."
She paused allowing him a small moment to stop her, to tell her that he did want all those things, but didn't say anything. She desperately tried to fight back a fresh set of tears but she had to continue. "The truth of the matter is though," she said as she sniffled, "I can't make you want anything. Either you want it or you don't. I can guilt you into doing things, but the moment I do, the moment I say anything, whatever you'll do, you will be doing it to avoid pain, not to gain pleasure."
She watched as Michael's shocked look changed. His face was anguished but she thought, or maybe just hoped that she saw a look of respect cross his face. "I never wanted to hurt you" Michael said quietly.
"Well you have. I can't force you to love me the way I want to be loved, all I can do is change myself. I've spent the last three years trying to turn myself into the kind of woman that I thought you would love, but I've failed. And so all I can do is blame myself. I can't keep telling myself that I'm just not good enough for you. It's destroying me."
He bowed his head at her for a moment before speaking. "I'm so sorry Alice."
She nodded her head, whether in acceptance of the hopelessness of the situation or his apology she didn't know. Looking around the room one last time, it felt like someone was piercing her chest with a knife and then twisting it around for good measure. She inhaled deeply, desperately trying to summon the courage to walk out and turned back to Michael.
"Goodbye, Michael."
"Bye." He answered her sadly. He opened his arms to embrace her and they shared their first real hug in months.
After a few moments she stepped back and saw his eyes brimming with tears. In a fluid motion she stooped to pick up her purse and turned away. She reached the end of the hall and turned back to see him leaning against his doorframe. She could see his tears through the dim light of the stars. She turned back away for the last time and let herself out of the apartment.
***
They're complicated people leading complicated lives,
And he complicates their problems by telling complicated lies.
He tells her he's sorry. She tells him, "It's over."
He tells her he's sorry. She says, over and over,
"You've never really known,
That when the white flag is flown, No one, no one, no one has won the war."
The End.
The song is The Flag by Barenaked Ladies.