Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: "Q&A"
Summary: Vaughn reacts to Sydney's 'death'
A/N: This is based (very loosely) on Kate Chopin's short story, "The Story of an Hour" . . . It's another one of those 'Vaughn sees Syd's car go into the ocean, Vaughn thinks she's dead' fics, but hey, it just came to me this morning, and I liked it, so here goes . . .
Heaven is of the earth
Heaven is of the sea
Heaven is of the air
Heaven is you and me~ Emer Kenny, "Heaven"
"Shit," Weiss whispered. Vaughn was too numb to react. Sydney Bristow had just driven her car into the Pacific. The chatty news anchor started babbling away and Weiss clicked off the TV.
Vaughn tried to convince himself that it was a bad TV-movie, but he knew the truth. That they had made a horrible mistake. He could hear Weiss exhale slowly somewhere behind him. He couldn't really understand the situation – only Vaughn and Jack could. Sure, Weiss knew that an agent was dead because they'd broken the law and they were all in big trouble. Weiss would know that this would blow Jack's cover at SD-6 and that the whole thing was over. But he didn't know the horrible feeling that came from knowing that you killed your agent, that you caused the death of somebody who trusted you. There was no way Weiss could comprehend that.
Vaughn stood up and grabbed his jacket and keys. Weiss looked up at him.
"Where are you going?"
"I don't know."
"Vaughn . . ." Weiss' tone was anxious and apprehensive. He knew Weiss was worried about him – worried that he'd do something stupid, like get drunk without proper supervision.
"Look, it won't be long before they call us in to reprimand us for our involvement. I need a little time. Cover for me as long as you can. I promise I'll get you out of this."
"I'm already in it."
"No. This is my mess. You had nothing to do with it. You don't know what I'm doing or where I've gone."
~*~*~*~*~
He wandered aimlessly until he found himself at the pier – their pier. Vaughn went to the railing and looked out at the cold, dark, impenetrable water that had swallowed up Sydney – his Sydney.
In his pocket, his phone rang. Numbly, Vaughn pulled it out and looked at the caller ID. Jack Bristow. What was he calling for? To tell Vaughn what he already knew? That they'd screwed up big time? Or was he calling to blame him for the death of his daughter? Fuck that. Fuck Bristow. Vaughn reached back and launched his Nokia. Impassively he watched it sink into the ocean. He wondered if this was how Sydney felt when she'd tossed her beeper.
The dark waters gave no answer. They only lapped the pilings of the pier, the waves coming from far out. The ocean had no boundaries, the ocean was free. Sydney was in the ocean, so that meant Sydney was free. Free from SD-6, free from the CIA, free from the DSR and that stupid prophecy. Vaughn hoped that they were shoving it where the sun don't shine now that Sydney's death had proved they were wrong about her. There was no way a dead woman could render the greatest power unto utter desolation. Unless that greatest power was the human heart. Vaughn's felt pretty desolate at the moment.
~*~*~*~*~
At home there were messages. Messages from Weiss, from Jack, from Devlin. One from Barnett. She was "concerned about the recent developments of the Bristow case." All were urgent, requiring him to call them back immediately. Screw that. He didn't have to answer to them anymore. Sydney was free, so was he. He grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge and took a swig.
The phone rang.
It was insistent and irritating. He wanted to rip it out of the wall, to run far away where they couldn't find him.
He stared at it, but it didn't stop ringing.
Could be Jack. Could be Weiss, or Devlin, or Barnett.
He reached hesitantly for it.
Free! Free! You're free! his mind said. No, not at all, his heart said. He would never be free of Sydney Bristow.
He answered it.
"Hello?"
"Joey's Pizza."