Hi guys,

I actually posted this story about a year ago, but I thought I'd try a rewrite. The beginning of this chapter's not long after the finale, but then it jumps ahead a few years later. It's pretty much AU, so dead people can come back to life, blah blah.

Reviews are GREAT, and I promise I will reply.

Thanks for reading

phoenix

Dixon walked slowly through the offices of the APO, his gaze firmly locked on the floor. It was quieter than he had ever known, silent except for a few whispers of mourning.

He kept walking, never looking up until he reached a wall covered with a block of stone, covered with hundreds of names. Hundreds of faces. He knew he wouldn't be standing where he was today if it hadn't been for the people who those names and faces belonged to, people who gave their lives for their work, for their people.

And he would never be able to thank them.

Dixon ran his fingertips across the names, most of them unfamiliar. But then there were two, newly engraved into the stone that brought tears to his eyes.

Michael Vaughn and Sydney Bristow.

Dixon closed his eyes. It's not right, he thought. They were both so young, so brave, finally so happy with a family of their own. And now they were both gone.

A child's cry broke the silence, and Dixon looked up, through a glass wall into a room. He could see the baby's familiar face streaked with tears, until a girl reached out for his hand. He grasped her finger tightly, and his cries subsided into sleepy breaths.

The girl looked up, straight into Dixon's eyes with her all too familiar eyes. Her mother's eyes, with the same unruly brown hair as her father. Isabelle.

Dixon merely stared at the look of fear and sadness in her eyes. The baby, Jack, was still far to young to understand what was going on. But Isabelle understood. She was so young, too young, but she understood, and she knew she had to stay strong for her family.

Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed Isabelle's and led her away. Dixon wanted so badly to stop them, but his feet remained rooted to the floor. No matter how many times he had volunteered to take the children in himself, he was always told that foster homes were already set up for them, and it was better for them to start a new life. A new life with a new family.

He stood there, helpless as they walked away.

Isabelle Williams was up late, madly typing the last paragraph on her English essay. Finally she victoriously punched in the last word and closed the computer with a sigh.

Her fingers brushed over her dad's name, printed on a sticker on the corner of his computer. Christopher Williams worked for a bank downtown, but was often away on business trips. It had been a long time since he had been home, but now he was staying for two weeks. Izzie smiled, happy that he was home.

She squinted at the eerily glowing numbers on her alarm clock. 1:45.

Her gaze traveled to the window in front of her. She could see nothing but darkness laced with moonlight. Izzie opened the window, leaned out as far as she could, and let the moonlight wash over her. She could hear nothing but crickets and birds and sometimes the soft hoot of an owl. Izzie lived in a house with a long, winding driveway that separated her world from everyone else's. She had lived here all her life, though her parents didn't like to speak of her childhood. She knew nothing except that her memories of those years were lost in an accident when she was young. But this place felt like home, and it was the one places that Izzie trusted. It was in what many called, "the middle of nowhere", impossible to find. But that was how Izzie liked it, it was her refuge, her escape, and filled with nights like this where there was nothing but her, the moon and crickets and birds.

She left the window open, the breeze following her as she went to bed and slept with a soft smile on her face, knowing she was alone, safe, and no one would ever be able to find her.

She couldn't have know about the black car, silent as the night, watching and waiting just below her window.