AN: Thank you so much for all the positive reviews. I'm really enjoying
writing this… I think I need to find another mini-series I can write when
I'm done. We're still in Syd's POV.
I did it. Mt. Sebacio looks beautiful at sunset. Fifteen minutes after the sun went down an FBI team extracted me, and now I'm on my way back to LA. I've pulled a lot of quick turn arounds in the last few year, but that has to be the shortest.
I should be able to relax and just sleep all the way home. I mean, I've just proven that I'm not the person in the prophecy. I can get back to my life and Sloane won't kill me because I'll be able to show up for his meeting on Tuesday. For once, it seems like things are going my way.
But something's bothering me. When the boys from the Bureau got to me, they were pretty chatty—a marked contrast to the way they were just 24 hours ago. One of them mentioned how gusty it was for my friends to break me out like that… that they were risking their own careers doing so. I knew this at the time of course, but I thought there might have been a chance that no one would know for sure who did it and they might get away with it, assuming I didn't get back. But this stranger had just told me that they knew who it was.
Vaughn, Weiss, and my father all risked their careers to save me. If they had been wrong, if I hadn't been able to see Mt. Sebacio, their lives would have gone down the toilet with mine. And it would have been my fault.
I know it's silly to be upset about something that didn't happen, but here's the deal: I'm tired of having other people's lives balancing on my head. I have a hard enough time keeping track of my own life, between my friends, classes, work, and "real" work. Some people lead a double life, I lead a quadruple life. I never know who I'm supposed to be in any given situation, and then on top of that the fate of three men rested in my hands?
I can understand my father taking the risk. After all, I'm his daughter and that's what fathers do for their daughters. Our relationship may still have a ways to go, but I know that I can count on him to be there for me in the most important times.
Vaughn… I'm not completely sure why he did it. He's my handler, so maybe if I was locked away as a threat to national security it would have reflected on him. But I don't think he was doing it for any selfish reason. He told me when I was taken into custody that he'd find a way out of this, and he did. He always keeps his promises to me. It feels good to know that there is someone in my life that I can trust in any situation. But because of that, I would have felt even worse if something had happened. He cares too much about me for his own good, and I can't help but think that somehow that is my fault too.
Weiss is the easiest to understand. He's Vaughn's best friend, and he wasn't about to let him do something stupid without backup. In a way I would have felt the least guilt over him, simply because I knew he wasn't really there to help me, he was there for Vaughn. But then Vaughn would have felt guilty, and I would have felt bad because it was me that got them all in this…
This is exhausting. Guilt, especially over things that didn't happen, is pointless. I have two men in my life who are willing to do anything to keep me safe. Instead of worrying about what may happen to them as they attempt to do so, I should be thankful that they care.
I can see the familiar LA skyline as we come in for our final approach. Just as the plane taxies to a stop on the runway, my cell phone rings. "Joey's Pizza?" a familiar voice asks.
"Wrong number," I reply and hang up. Getting off the jet, I take a cab home so I can get in my car and drive to the warehouse. On the way, I briefly wonder why he wanted to meet instead of just talking on the phone. It's a CIA phone, I'm sure the line would have been secure. Before I can come to any conclusions, I catch sight of a tail behind me and my attention turns to losing it.
Twenty minutes later I pull up beside his car. Getting out, I quietly walk into the warehouse. As I peek around the corner, I can tell he hasn't heard me arrive yet. He's pacing and looking at his watch in growing agitation. I start to feel guilty, then I stop myself. Just how fast was I supposed to get here anyway? I smile and step out from behind the crates. "Hey," I say. "Were you waiting for a pizza?"
I watch as the worry lines disappear and are replaced by a grin. It feels good to know that he's glad to see me, happy that I'm ok. He take a step toward me, and for once in my life I forget about what I'm supposed to do and do what feels right instead. Letting out a little sigh, I step into his welcome embrace.
This is what it feels like to be held by someone who cares about you. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like. I can feel the tension ease out of my body, replaced by something new. Happiness of course, but a resolve as well. I will not let this go, not without a fight.
I can feel him pull away mentally before he steps back physically. "I'm sorry," he says, averting his eyes from mine. "I don't know… I guess the emotions of the last 48 hours got to me. I shouldn't have done that."
Reaching out, I turn his head so he is looking me in the eye. "Why?" I challenge.
"Because it's… and you could… what if… what do you mean why?" he asked.
"Why do our lives dictate that we can't be normal people? You said you were worried about me… explain that to me."
His eyes cloud over for a moment, and I can tell this is a subject he really doesn't want to go into, but he does anyway. For me. "When I watched you go into the ocean, I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead and it was my fault, because it was my idea to break you out of federal custody and get you to Italy. I was afraid that I'd never have a chance…" His voice trailed off.
"Never have a chance to do this?" I asked quietly, stepping back into his arms. He resisted for a moment, but then I felt him pull my closer.
"Yeah," he whispered. This time neither of us pulled away, and I inwardly rejoiced that there was one less regret I would have to worry about, one less thing that could be my fault.
I did it. Mt. Sebacio looks beautiful at sunset. Fifteen minutes after the sun went down an FBI team extracted me, and now I'm on my way back to LA. I've pulled a lot of quick turn arounds in the last few year, but that has to be the shortest.
I should be able to relax and just sleep all the way home. I mean, I've just proven that I'm not the person in the prophecy. I can get back to my life and Sloane won't kill me because I'll be able to show up for his meeting on Tuesday. For once, it seems like things are going my way.
But something's bothering me. When the boys from the Bureau got to me, they were pretty chatty—a marked contrast to the way they were just 24 hours ago. One of them mentioned how gusty it was for my friends to break me out like that… that they were risking their own careers doing so. I knew this at the time of course, but I thought there might have been a chance that no one would know for sure who did it and they might get away with it, assuming I didn't get back. But this stranger had just told me that they knew who it was.
Vaughn, Weiss, and my father all risked their careers to save me. If they had been wrong, if I hadn't been able to see Mt. Sebacio, their lives would have gone down the toilet with mine. And it would have been my fault.
I know it's silly to be upset about something that didn't happen, but here's the deal: I'm tired of having other people's lives balancing on my head. I have a hard enough time keeping track of my own life, between my friends, classes, work, and "real" work. Some people lead a double life, I lead a quadruple life. I never know who I'm supposed to be in any given situation, and then on top of that the fate of three men rested in my hands?
I can understand my father taking the risk. After all, I'm his daughter and that's what fathers do for their daughters. Our relationship may still have a ways to go, but I know that I can count on him to be there for me in the most important times.
Vaughn… I'm not completely sure why he did it. He's my handler, so maybe if I was locked away as a threat to national security it would have reflected on him. But I don't think he was doing it for any selfish reason. He told me when I was taken into custody that he'd find a way out of this, and he did. He always keeps his promises to me. It feels good to know that there is someone in my life that I can trust in any situation. But because of that, I would have felt even worse if something had happened. He cares too much about me for his own good, and I can't help but think that somehow that is my fault too.
Weiss is the easiest to understand. He's Vaughn's best friend, and he wasn't about to let him do something stupid without backup. In a way I would have felt the least guilt over him, simply because I knew he wasn't really there to help me, he was there for Vaughn. But then Vaughn would have felt guilty, and I would have felt bad because it was me that got them all in this…
This is exhausting. Guilt, especially over things that didn't happen, is pointless. I have two men in my life who are willing to do anything to keep me safe. Instead of worrying about what may happen to them as they attempt to do so, I should be thankful that they care.
I can see the familiar LA skyline as we come in for our final approach. Just as the plane taxies to a stop on the runway, my cell phone rings. "Joey's Pizza?" a familiar voice asks.
"Wrong number," I reply and hang up. Getting off the jet, I take a cab home so I can get in my car and drive to the warehouse. On the way, I briefly wonder why he wanted to meet instead of just talking on the phone. It's a CIA phone, I'm sure the line would have been secure. Before I can come to any conclusions, I catch sight of a tail behind me and my attention turns to losing it.
Twenty minutes later I pull up beside his car. Getting out, I quietly walk into the warehouse. As I peek around the corner, I can tell he hasn't heard me arrive yet. He's pacing and looking at his watch in growing agitation. I start to feel guilty, then I stop myself. Just how fast was I supposed to get here anyway? I smile and step out from behind the crates. "Hey," I say. "Were you waiting for a pizza?"
I watch as the worry lines disappear and are replaced by a grin. It feels good to know that he's glad to see me, happy that I'm ok. He take a step toward me, and for once in my life I forget about what I'm supposed to do and do what feels right instead. Letting out a little sigh, I step into his welcome embrace.
This is what it feels like to be held by someone who cares about you. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like. I can feel the tension ease out of my body, replaced by something new. Happiness of course, but a resolve as well. I will not let this go, not without a fight.
I can feel him pull away mentally before he steps back physically. "I'm sorry," he says, averting his eyes from mine. "I don't know… I guess the emotions of the last 48 hours got to me. I shouldn't have done that."
Reaching out, I turn his head so he is looking me in the eye. "Why?" I challenge.
"Because it's… and you could… what if… what do you mean why?" he asked.
"Why do our lives dictate that we can't be normal people? You said you were worried about me… explain that to me."
His eyes cloud over for a moment, and I can tell this is a subject he really doesn't want to go into, but he does anyway. For me. "When I watched you go into the ocean, I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead and it was my fault, because it was my idea to break you out of federal custody and get you to Italy. I was afraid that I'd never have a chance…" His voice trailed off.
"Never have a chance to do this?" I asked quietly, stepping back into his arms. He resisted for a moment, but then I felt him pull my closer.
"Yeah," he whispered. This time neither of us pulled away, and I inwardly rejoiced that there was one less regret I would have to worry about, one less thing that could be my fault.