This is one of those in between chapters. There's important information but the real twist and turns start next chapter.

A semi-truck hit him at full force and he felt like someone had punched him in the stomach hard. He never wanted his job to affect anyone else's life but his own. Feeling tears rush towards his eyes, he managed to gasp, "Anyone but my mother. Please tell me it's *not* my mother."

Jack sighed and let his eyes fall to the floor. He studied a small crack growing out of one of the black tiles. The aged crack mirrored the cracks forming along his brow and face. Age had never shown so much on the veteran's face. He knew the words he was going to say was going to be so terrible. Similar words had been said to him numerous years ago. This was the worse possible news that could ever be told. They would burn him like fire and engulf his entire entity. They would be echoed in his head until he reached his own deathbed. How do you tell a man something like this? Jack felt the collar around his neck grow tight and sweat pool beneath his chin. He couldn't bring himself to look up or to tell the horrible news. "I'm so sorry." He managed to utter softly.

Vaughn couldn't even talk. There was no thought at all. He just felt his body shut down and his heart start to pound loudly in his chest, "What? No. No." He had never felt so numb in his life. At first, he couldn't even cry, "Are you sure?" His emerald eyes held pain from over twenty years ago.

Jack managed to bring himself to look at Vaughn and nodded curtly, "I'm afraid so."

His mind started to race. Nothing was sacred anymore. This was absolutely impossible. His mother was immortal. She was the strongest creature known to man and now she-she was dead? "What? How?"

Jack started to answer but as he recalled the pictures from the crime scene, he promptly decided against it. He saw flashbacks of the blood and remains of a wonderful woman, slaughtered like some sort of animal in her own home.

The younger agent was beside himself with grief. His heart burned with the emptiness of being orphaned at thirty. Thank G-d he was sitting down when he heard the news or else his body would have collapsed even further. He felt his heart had been ripped out and stomped out. This was the worst pain in the world. He desperately wanted too run from the room and hide form the horrible turmoil that had now engulfed him.

His hand reached up towards his chest and gripped the metals tightly as though they could bring his mother back to him. The cold gold of Saint Michael and Saint George quickly grew warm from his overwhelming body heat. His body shook wildly as he attempted to catch his breath. Each inhalation pained him more than the last. This was the type of pain that only went away with an ice cold drink followed by an even colder shower. He had never felt so alone. He felt like no one could soothe away this..this aching void that suddenly filled his heart. His mother, his best friend, had been taken from him. And to make it that much worse, she had been taken from him by the same thing that he took his father. He saw images, visions of being told of his father's death and felt the imprints of new memories being made.

fLaShBaCk OvEr TwEnTy YeArS

sAinTa BaRbArA, CaLiFoRnIa

His mother held his baby sister, the baby of the three Vaughn children, in her arms, while he stood off by the doorway, playing with a new toy. He didn't really know what was going on. His oldest sister, Isabelle had been playing with him. She was a beautiful nine and a half year old (eighteen months older than Vaughn) with long blonde curly hair and dark brown eyes, a gift from her father. Izzy, as she was known to Vaughn and two year old Claire and Vaughn had been playing checkers or something like that.

A CIA agent had appeared at the door. He had dark hair, cut close to his scalp and wore a black three pieces suit. His voice was so soft and soothing but his words were like glass. He spoke to his mother about what had happened and that his father, away on a "business trip", had been identify. His body was being transferred from Russia, where it had been discovered. Not William Vaughn, just his body. Vaughn remembered with agony the look on his mother's face and the CIA agent, who his later found out was named Nick Galloway, rushing forward, taking his younger sister in his arm and comforting his mother as she collapsed down to the ground.

Izzy and Vaughn stood up and immediately, Izzy gripped Vaughn's shoulder hard in fear. After his mother had melted down to the ground, another agent came into the house and took them aside. He wore a similar suit and as he reached him, put his hands on his hips, pushing his coat jacket aside, revealing the holster attached tightly to his waist. It was the first time either child had ever seen a gun.

"Hiya, guys. You are Michael Vaughn, right? And Isabelle?"

"Yeah, I am." 8 year old Vaughn had replied.

"Yes, sir." Izzy replied, straightening up a little more. She was so mature and was a born ballet dancer, aspiring to dance in a company one day.

"Well, my name is James Calvi."

"Hello, Mr. Calvi." Respect was drilled into them almost on a daily basis by their father

"Call me Jim." The agent sat down on his knees and placed his hand on Vaughn's shoulder.

"Jim, what's going on? Why is maman crying?" Izzy jumped in and asked, receiving a shocked look from Vaughn.

"Well, you know how you're father hasn't been home for a long time?"

"Five and a half weeks." Little Vaughn recited.

"Yes."

"And?" Isabelle jumped in, not sure how to react. She kept her tone steady, knowing in her heart that she had to be strong for her brother.

Jim cleared his throat uncomfortably and his eyes bounced around the house, "Well, I'm sorry to have to tell you this but-"

"My father's dead isn't he?" Vaughn always thought quickly. "He was never in New York. He was working."

Izzy took a small step back in horror as the pieces fell into place at the same time.

"I'm so sorry." Jim responded. He leaned forward and hugged him tightly as Vaughn let the tears stream down his face. Isabelle was the next to be embraced. Things had changed so quickly. He let go of Jim and turned to Izzy. She was sobbing just as hard and seeing her cry, little Vaughn started to as well. Jim hugged him once more and walked over to Felicity. Isabelle and Little Vaughn followed suit. Their mother had collapsed to the ground and was now sobbing inconsolably

"Ah mes enfants. Je suis desolee. Votre papa, il etait un homme marvelous." She managed to choke out and reached out for her children. "Oh my children!" She started to wail in her new tongue, "I am so sorry. Your father! Your father was such a wonderful man!"

"We know maman. We know." Isabelle had responded, taking Vaughn into her arms and then collapsing into their mother's.

"We're gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay." Vaughn said over and over again, feeling the tears cascade over his face.

Felicity straightened up and sniffled slightly. Her lips grazed each of her foreheads as she gave them a quick squeeze, "Come, come." She let go of her crying children and stood up, concentrating on pressing the wrinkles out of her floral skirt. Feeling satisfied with herself, she walked over to the two agents who were congregating in the corner. "So, where do we go from here?" Her accent was heavier than ever. Fleury seemed so far away at that moment but little France was in her living room. "Where do I go? What is to become of my husband? What happens now, with me and my children? Please, my children are the most important thing right now. Do you have someone my children can talk to?" She always thought of her children first.

EnD fLaShBaCk

"What about my sisters?" Vaughn finally managed to gasp, feeling the weight of the world and the tumor in his chest. "Where are they?" The Vaughn children were as close as they could be. There were so many things that had bonded the Vaughn family together. The death of their father brought them closer than anyone could imagine. Felicity was forced to work two jobs, just so the family could make ends meet. Vaughn and Isabelle quickly became the parent figure in little Claire's life. There were countless dinners that were absent of a mother but any stranger peering through the windows would not think that. Isabelle cooked traditional French meals as Vaughn sat at the head of the table. They discussed their days and seemed perfectly normal. The age gaps meant nothing.

"They've already been flown to France and are waiting for you. Your plane leaves whenever you're ready." Jack spoke softly and evenly.

"Oh G-d. Oh G-d." He kept murmuring over and over again. He held his chest tightly and rocked back in forth. Finally after about five minutes, he leaned back into his wheelchair and stared off. It was like he had completely shut down. His tongue felt like it had swollen and he couldn't have spoken even if he tried. He looked at Sydney finally, "That's why on the phone- about identifying body. It was my mother's body. Oh G-d, I have to id her body?"

Jack cut in, eager to soothe this obvious pain that this was causing, "No. Your oldest sister-"

"Isabelle."

"Yes, Isabelle has already completed that task." Jack responded soberly.

Vaughn closed his eyes as he tried to picture his beautiful older sister seeing his even more beautiful mother's body. Not her- just her body. Felicity Marie Vaughn was dead. He sunk further into his chair and hide his face in his hand. This wasn't happening.

Sydney sat there absolutely helpless. She wanted to hold him so tightly in her arms and kiss away his pain. But as she jumped from her perch, her father abruptly put his arm out. "Let him be." He mouthed. Sydney returned, with her lips slightly puckered in both defeat and sympathy. She remembered the pain of the losing a mother. It was quite possibly the worst pain that she had ever experienced, especially at such a young age. She felt her eyes pool with tears and sympathy pains started for the second time that day. This had to be the worst day. They were definitely star-crossed lovers. So many things had gone wrong while they were together. Things dated back years and always, they managed to overcome it but this time, she didn't know if they could do it.

Ultimately, she defied her father and lunged towards Vaughn, gripping him tightly as he collapsed into shoulder. She felt his rapid gasps of air warm her shoulder. She reached up and stroked his hair, "Shh. It's okay. We'll get through this. I know. I know, I'm so sorry." She started to tear up but forced the emotions back down her throat, knowing that she could put these thoughts away.

Her heart started to pound and ache all at the same time. The thoughts of losing her mother came flooding back but could only imagine that this pain would be a thousand times worse. They stayed like that for a long moment, both of them wishing that the world would stop for a few minutes and let them grieve.

"Agent Bristow." An unwanted voice cut into the private moment she and Vaughn were sharing.

"What?" Sydney managed to speak, hovering over Vaughn. She had crouched down on the side of the wheelchair, twisting at an uncomfortable angle to try pacify him.

"The plane's ready to board. You need to get going. You, Agent Vaughn, and Agent Weiss." Kendall spoke with his trademark cold voice and walked away.

Sydney stood up straight and wiped the imaginary tears from her face, "Let's get you on that plane and we'll sort things out." She silently instructed Weiss and her father to help aid them on the plane, snapping into business mode, "We'll work this out on the plane, sweetie. It's a long ride and I've got all the time you need." Weiss stood up, equally as shocked and started to wheel Vaughn towards the airstrip. Sydney moved to follow suit but Jack promptly stopped her.

"What?" She asked, letting a frustrated sigh escape her lips.

"I need to go over the mission specs with you before you get on that plane. Things are a lot more complicated than they may seem." Jack hushed his voice and ushered his daughter over to a less public corner. To make things more ironic, it was the so called "flirting corner." She followed willingly, feeling the fear bubble over in her mind once again.

"What could possibly be so difficult that I can't learn it on the plane?" As soon as the words escaped her mouth, she regretted it. The little reminders of a mother's funeral, an orphaned adult with cancer, two missions piggy-backed on top of each other came soaring back. The information was getting much too difficult to deal with at the moment. Her heart was pounding so loudly that she thought the gods could hear her pain.

"Where would you like me to start?" Jack asked sarcastically.

"Wherever you want." She quickly matched his tone and placed her hands on her hips as he sat down on a nearby desk.

Might as well get the gruesome details over with first. "You're going to have to draw blood from Vaughn every week and have Weiss send it to our French lab. The chemotherapy is almost impossible to go under while you're undergoing this mission, so we have to monitor him closely." He watched his daughter make a mental note of this.

Pushing her emotions aside, she started to make headway and focus on her work. "The supplies will be at the safe house?"

"You won't be staying at a safe house."

"What?" Sydney couldn't believe her ears, "Then where are we staying?"

"You'll be staying at the Vaughn estate for the first half of the mission and you won't be staying over for the other part." Not giving her time to jump in again, Jack continued, "Next. Vaughn's mother's funeral is going to be a difficult ordeal for you to handle. You have repressed memories about your mother's and this is going to trigger many of them. I want you to be prepared for an emotional roller coaster." Sydney face twisted in surprise. She didn't remember many things about her mother's funeral but always attributed it to her age. Never once did she think that she had repressed memories. "The mission are going to be difficult. We have two leads on who killed Felicity Vaughn. One is in India, the other in Russia. You'll be going to Russia first to meet with my contacts and more than likely, they'll give you nothing."

"Then why I am going?" the stubborn side of her began to show through.

Jack sighed out of frustration. Ever since Sydney was little, she had a habit of wanting to know the answers to all of her questions five minutes ago, "I'm sending you because you are one of the most capable agents when it comes to Russian intelligence."

Sydney felt her face grow hot from the unexpected compliment from her father. Jack Bristow complimented no one. Absolutely no one.

"And besides," Jack continued, hushing his voice slightly, "I know that you have personal stake in this." He swallowed hard as he tried to internalize the image of Sydney rushing to Vaughn's side. "The second mission, well that one is much more difficult. You'll have to infiltrate a dance club and find a microchip. On this chip, there is the blueprints for the latest counter-intelligence group. They are based out of Russia, again, but they keep their information scattered throughout Europe and Asia. We already have the manual but the microchip will fill in the blanks. More than likely, this will lead to the capture of Felicity Vaughn's killer. We have information that supports the theory that this new group, a branch of the Triad, is behind her murder." Jack sighed and really did not want to release this last piece of information but new it was necessary, "They are a combination of the rogue Triad members and the surviving members of Derevko's operation, led known by Sark."

"Wonderful."

They stood their in awkward silence for a moment. Jack wanted to say things so badly but refrained all the same. The thoughts and images of what happened in the past few hours were extremely difficult to deal with and it made life that much more trying. "You need to be careful."

"I know. I always am." She replied stubbornly, moving again to walk away.

Jack advanced towards her, "Sydney, I mean it. You need to be cautious. Don't do anything foolish. Don't let your emotions get too involved. You've had a habit of doing that lately." His fatherly advice blurred the line between estranged father and wise agent.

Her temper flared like the phoenix, "I cannot believe you just said that to me." She brought her hand up to her head for the second time that day, feeling a migraine beginning to swell beneath her aching fingertips. "I *have* to go." She turned around, not letting her father argue with her any further. It would just lead to more frustration and resentment on both sides of the argument. Jack had become overprotected since Vaughn's absence and declared each of her decisions foolhardy and her actions unnecessary risks.

"Sydney!" He called after her, not having the strength to rise to his feet. "Don't you walk away from me!"

"Watch me!" Sydney barked underneath her breath. She marched away, fully aware of her father's hateful glare. No one could exactly pinpoint what happened between the veteran agent and his daughter. It was apparent that their relationship was becoming strained again. There was an unsettling feeling in the air that attempted to smoother any unknowing passerby. She walked away, swinging her hips with the typical Bristow stride that had gotten her into trouble from time to time. Nothing mattered anymore. The Bitch Bristow was back until everything had settled again. What she wouldn't give for a long hot bath with a big tub of Ben and Jerry's chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.

She whipped past the agents milling around. She ignored the blatant stares and the whispers *That's Sydney Bristow* *She's the one I was telling you about* * Oh my G-d, did you hear that Agent Vaughn is back?* *She's not doing well. I heard she started sleeping around or at least that's why I heard from Peter from Op Tech.* She glared straight ahead and opted for the quieter stairs instead of the elevator. They were as bleak as they come. Gray walls, gray stairs, gray railings. She plowed down a few flights, needing to go a total of eight and making about four in about two minutes. She literally flew down, grateful that no one else had taken the aerobic approach at that particular moment. Her feet fell into a rhythmic pattern that started to mirror her heartbeat. Her mind was racing and went completely blank. There were no thoughts at all until..Finally, after reaching the halfway point of her descent, she stopped dead. It was either out of exhaustion or emotions. Why did emotions play such a big part in life? Why couldn't have she been a robot with no emotions! Anyway, she stopped dead and felt a gust of air kick behind her. It was more than likely her imagination but her stop seemed so powerful that she sat down on the step in a large heap. She just sat and starred. No tears were bothered with and for the first time that day, she allowed her thoughts to be processed.

Her body started to reek with the stench of disappointment and dishearted dreams. Regrets flooded her and made every moment harder. There were moments like this that all she wanted to do was make it stop. Suicide wasn't an option but it would be such an easy way out! Just like those pills were. She wanted to laugh. Weiss actually bought her story. He honestly thought she hadn't taken them. He could be so naïve. Her tongue danced around her mouth as she remembered the bitter taste of the little pink pills setting on the tip of her tongue. A remembrance of the water splashing around her mouth as it soothed away all of her pain. Her mind went blissfully numb after that. She climbed into bed and for eight wonderful hours, she didn't feel a thing. Not a blessed thing.

G-d, how she wished for one of those pills again. She wasn't a drug addict or something like that. She just used those pills for an escape every once and a while. Everyone needs an escape every once and a while, right? She desired that tart taste on the tip of her tongue and numbness that quickly followed. That was the best week of her life. But like all good things, that quickly came to an end. She ran out of pills.

She wet her lips and felt the hard cement beneath her. She buried her head in her hands. This wasn't fair. This sucked, to be blunt about it. Let's review, shall we? The love of her life left her suddenly nearly a year ago and she cut him out of her life. And as soon as she was over him and willingly to accept her single status, phone calls start to arrive and after nearly a week, she discovered that he had life threatening cancer that was resistant to cancer. In that same day, she saw him again and he was practically dying. To make matters that much worse, his mother was brutally murdered by the associate that worked with her mother, Irinia Derevko. But not only was Felicity Vaughn murdered, the only way she was identified wasn't by her body. It was by her dental records. It was the same way her ill fated husband was identified.

She laughed ruefully at all of the information, "This is all a joke. This is a dream. This is all a very sick dream. I am going to wake up and not only am I going to be in my bedroom, but Vaughn, a healthy Vaughn, is going to by lying next to me." She tried to convince herself. Who the hell was she kidding. She was so frustrated that she didn't even know what to do with herself She didn't know whether to cry and breakdown or to throw something or to yell at someone. She was exhausted from the day's events and was even more exhausted of being a good agent. She wished she didn't have to do everything right and suddenly wanted to be less capable. Her skin had that tight feeling again. She wriggled around uncomfortably. Her hands ran across her face as she groaned. She just wanted to be normal for a few hours.

She finally just yelled.

Loud.

It let all the frustration out and echoed throughout the cement stairwell.

She didn't yell anything in particular. It was just a good old fashioned yell from the pit of her stomach.

And she did it again.

And again.

And one more time.

Her body straightened up and she got to her feet. The mud brown globes bounced around the stairwell, praying that now one else had heard her. Her lips were pursed into a straight line and she suddenly felt better about herself. All she needed to do was let out a little steam, literally. Giving her body one last shake to get all of the nervous energy out, she flew down the rest of the steps, practically running down to the airstrip.

I'm sorry! I know you're all probably yelling at your computers right now! Yes, I did kill off Vaughn's mother and Sydney looks like a drug addict (?) but hey, you've just begun on the emotional roller coaster I'm prepared to take you on.

Chapter Seven: I'm gonna fly away

Sydney and Vaughn confront their pasts, presents, and futures en route to Fleury.

Chapter Eight: No Bond Like Ours

Vaughn reconnects with his sisters.