Tomorrow's Promise
Disclaimer: Everything Alias is the property of JJ Abrams, Bad Robot Productions, ABC, and Touchstone. Please consider this a humble tribute to the genius of the Alias characters and plotlines. No harm intended.
The titles for some of the chapters are from Police songs. Again, no harm intended. The lyrics of these songs seemed to relate to the story I wanted to tell.
Rating: PG for mild language.
Archive: Please ask first.
Feedback: Appreciated, especially on writing techniques.
S.O.P.*
Jack carried Sydney nearly a mile before collapsing. Vaughn carried Sydney the rest of the way to the extraction point while Will helped Jack. A van was waiting to take them to the airport. At the airport, the four quickly boarded a cargo plane that would take them back to Los Angeles.
Only when the plane was in the air did the three men bother with conversation.
"Let's take a look at those wounds, Jack." Vaughn had found the box of emergency medical supplies and was encouraging Jack to sit down on the bench that ran along one side of the plane.
Jack had some difficulty getting out of the black jacket he was wearing. He said nothing, but Vaughn could tell by the way he clenched his jaw and blinked his eyes that Jack was in pain.
Jack's black t-shirt was soaked with blood. Using scissors from the medical kit, Vaughn cut off the t-shirt. Jack had taken two bullets in his right shoulder but luckily no major organs were damaged. Vaughn was surprised by the amount of blood that was still seeping from the wounds.
"Jesus, Jack!" Vaughn said, "How in the world are you staying conscious with that kind of blood loss?" Jack knew that Vaughn's question was actually a compliment and did not reply.
Vaughn cleaned the wounds and applied pressure using sterile gauze. When the bleeding slowed, he wrapped compression bandages around Jack's shoulder and chest. Vaughn reached into the medical kit and pulled out a syringe and a vial of liquid.
"Any chance you'll take some pain medication?" Vaughn asked. The scowl on Jack's face gave Vaughn his answer. The corners of Vaughn's lips curled slightly as he shook his head at Jack. He returned the items to the kit.
"Well then, I guess that will have to do until we get to L.A.," Vaughn said. He leaned over to pack up the rest of the supplies.
"Thank you, Mike," Jack said softly.
Vaughn's head snapped up. His eyes locked with Jack's. He couldn't decide which was more surprising, that another agent actually called him by his first name or that Jack Bristow was thanking him.
"Thank you," Jack repeated, "Not just for taking care of this," he motioned towards his shoulder, "But also for…" Jack's voice trailed off as he looked towards Sydney.
"No problem." There was no need for Jack to finish his sentence. Vaughn knew that Jack Bristow was not in the habit of thanking people. Vaughn understood what Jack could not put into words.
Vaughn dug an army green t-shirt out of a trunk and tossed it on Jack's lap. "See if you can manage to put that on without screwing up my handy work."
Vaughn looked around the plane. He had laid Sydney on a fold down cot attached to the opposite wall of the airplane. Will was sitting on the floor beside the cot just staring at her. Vaughn sighed as he walked across the plane and sat down on the floor about ten feet away from Will. He leaned his weary body against the wall, pulled his knees up, and wrapped his arms across his shins. He let his head fall back slightly to rest on the wall.
Vaughn watched Will as he looked at Sydney. He envied Will. Over the past three weeks Vaughn had witnessed Sydney's devotion to this man. If Vaughn had been the one that was kidnapped would Sydney travel across the globe to rescue him? Vaughn hoped that she would, but he knew their relationship was on a whole different level than the relationship she had with Will.
Vaughn envied the simplicity of Will's relationship with Sydney. No clandestine meetings, no counter missions, no fear. Will was free to be with her in public, stop by her house on a whim, and call her just to hear her voice. Will could reach out and touch Sydney without worrying about protocol. He could hug her, hold her, kiss her, and tell her he loved her any time he wanted to.
And Vaughn was certain that Will loved her. Will had transformed himself from newspaper reporter to operative without hesitation. It took a certain kind of person to be an operative, and an even stronger person to participate in a dangerous mission without any training. Will Tippin was either in love or totally insane.
Jack slowly worked the t-shirt over his head. He eventually managed to get both arms through the sleeves. He sat on the bench a few moments longer breathing deeply. Finally Jack stood up and started searching through boxes. Vaughn considered telling Jack to sit down and rest, but he knew it would do no good.
"She's still unconscious." Will commented. He reached out and gently touched a bruise on Sydney's face. "Are you sure she's alright?"
"She's okay," Jack and Vaughn said nearly in unison.
Jack stood up holding several standard issue military belts. He walked slowly over to the cot. Jack took one of the narrow, canvas belts and wrapped it around Sydney's wrist and then around a bar under the cot.
"What are you doing?" Will asked, his voice filled with concern.
Vaughn smiled sadly and shook his head at Will's simple question.
As he continued to tie Sydney's limbs to the cot, Jack answered, "We have 15 hours before we land in LA. At some point Sydney will wake up." Jack looked up at Will momentarily, "And I don't think you're prepared for round two with Sydney."
When he was finished, Jack stood up and faced Will.
"I can tell by the look on your face, Mr. Tippin, that you still haven't figured out what happened to Sydney."
Will objected, "Obviously, they drugged her." Will motioned towards a group of needle marks on Sydney's arm. "Why else would she attack me like that?"
"Yes, they drugged her, Mr. Tippin. Most likely they were attempting to brainwash her. She attacked you because she did not recognize you."
Vaughn stood up and joined the others at the cot. His eyes lingered over Sydney's face, but he dared not touch her as Will did. Vaughn turned to face Will.
"Considering that she was there for less than 24 hours, it's unlikely that they were successful." Vaughn looked down at Sydney again.
"That's good," Will said confidently.
"Yes and no." Vaughn sighed, "Now she's somewhere in between being herself and being completely brain washed."
"And we do not know where she is at on that continuum," Jack interjected.
Vaughn looked at Will and continued, "She doesn't know what is true and what is false. Most importantly, she doesn't know who to trust. She is very confused, and that makes her very dangerous."
"At this point, Sydney has only her instincts to rely on," Jack said. "And her instincts, that of an intelligence operative," Jack said pointedly, "would be to kill anyone she perceives as a threat."
"When she wakes up, she would assess the situation and…"
"Most likely kill everyone on this plane," Jack finished Vaughn's statement.
"These restraints," Vaughn tugged at one of Sydney's wrists, "Are the only thing keeping us," Vaughn pointed to himself and then the other two men, "from the wrath of Sydney."
They were silent for a moment as they gazed at Sydney.
Finally Will said, "Yeah, you know, I think the restraint thing is a good idea."
***
"I need to make a call to Sloane before our cover is blown," Jack said. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and started walking towards the cockpit.
"Oh Jesus! Jack, my story!" Will was frantic. "I told Abbey to publish it if something happened to me! I've… I've been gone too long!"
Jack turned around and faced Will.
"What story?" Vaughn asked.
Will spoke with agitation, "I wrote a story about SD-6… at least what I know about SD-6."
"You did WHAT?" Vaughn yelled. "Do you realize what that will do to our operation?"
Jack interrupted Vaughn's rant, "I knew about your story, Mr. Tippin. It was taken care of before we left for Taipei. Your story is now CIA property."
"Oh, thank God." Will breathed a sigh of relief.
Jack turned and started for the cockpit again.
"What are you going to tell Sloane?" Vaughn asked.
Jack didn't bother to stop this time. "I'm going to tell him that I surprised Sydney with a two week sailing cruise," Jack spoke over his shoulder.
"Will he give you the time off just like that?"
"I'm a senior officer. He has no choice." Jack said. "Plus, I'm going to tell him that we're already on the cruise."
"Are you sure two weeks will be enough time?" Vaughn asked.
"Agent Vaughn, you worry too much," Jack said. He opened the door to the cockpit. "If it turns out that two weeks is not enough, we'll deal with that in two weeks." Jack closed the door behind him, ending the conversation.
***
By the time Jack returned, Will was back at Sydney's side and Vaughn was lying on another fold-down cot.
"We may have a problem," Jack said.
Vaughn sat up quickly. "What?"
"Sloane has been poisoned and is in critical condition. His wife, Emily, is dead."
Vaughn's eyes became wide in disbelief. "What?!"
"SD-6, as well as the LAPD, have launched investigations. Top members of the Alliance are on their way to LA. They want me there immediately."
Vaughn swung his legs over the side of the cot. "Shit! What did you tell them?"
"They gave me 48 hours."
"Two days, Jack! That's not going to be enough time for you to recover from those wounds!"
"I've done more in less time. My wounds will not be a problem."
Vaughn was silent for a moment, trying to figure out if Jack was trying to convince Vaughn or himself. Finally he asked, "What about Sydney?"
"I told them that I would let Sydney make her own decision about when to come back."
"Good. That still gives us time to…"
Jack interrupted Vaughn, "But it will be suspicious if Sydney doesn't come back for Emily's funeral. They were good friends."
Vaughn stood up and ran one hand through his hair. "When?"
"The funeral hasn't been set yet because of the investigation and because there are few close family members outside of Sloane," Jack said. "That buys us a few days." Vaughn nodded.
Will, who had been silent up to this point, turned to them and said, "How do you people live like this?"
*S.O.P. = Standard Operating Procedure
Disclaimer: Everything Alias is the property of JJ Abrams, Bad Robot Productions, ABC, and Touchstone. Please consider this a humble tribute to the genius of the Alias characters and plotlines. No harm intended.
The titles for some of the chapters are from Police songs. Again, no harm intended. The lyrics of these songs seemed to relate to the story I wanted to tell.
Rating: PG for mild language.
Archive: Please ask first.
Feedback: Appreciated, especially on writing techniques.
S.O.P.*
Jack carried Sydney nearly a mile before collapsing. Vaughn carried Sydney the rest of the way to the extraction point while Will helped Jack. A van was waiting to take them to the airport. At the airport, the four quickly boarded a cargo plane that would take them back to Los Angeles.
Only when the plane was in the air did the three men bother with conversation.
"Let's take a look at those wounds, Jack." Vaughn had found the box of emergency medical supplies and was encouraging Jack to sit down on the bench that ran along one side of the plane.
Jack had some difficulty getting out of the black jacket he was wearing. He said nothing, but Vaughn could tell by the way he clenched his jaw and blinked his eyes that Jack was in pain.
Jack's black t-shirt was soaked with blood. Using scissors from the medical kit, Vaughn cut off the t-shirt. Jack had taken two bullets in his right shoulder but luckily no major organs were damaged. Vaughn was surprised by the amount of blood that was still seeping from the wounds.
"Jesus, Jack!" Vaughn said, "How in the world are you staying conscious with that kind of blood loss?" Jack knew that Vaughn's question was actually a compliment and did not reply.
Vaughn cleaned the wounds and applied pressure using sterile gauze. When the bleeding slowed, he wrapped compression bandages around Jack's shoulder and chest. Vaughn reached into the medical kit and pulled out a syringe and a vial of liquid.
"Any chance you'll take some pain medication?" Vaughn asked. The scowl on Jack's face gave Vaughn his answer. The corners of Vaughn's lips curled slightly as he shook his head at Jack. He returned the items to the kit.
"Well then, I guess that will have to do until we get to L.A.," Vaughn said. He leaned over to pack up the rest of the supplies.
"Thank you, Mike," Jack said softly.
Vaughn's head snapped up. His eyes locked with Jack's. He couldn't decide which was more surprising, that another agent actually called him by his first name or that Jack Bristow was thanking him.
"Thank you," Jack repeated, "Not just for taking care of this," he motioned towards his shoulder, "But also for…" Jack's voice trailed off as he looked towards Sydney.
"No problem." There was no need for Jack to finish his sentence. Vaughn knew that Jack Bristow was not in the habit of thanking people. Vaughn understood what Jack could not put into words.
Vaughn dug an army green t-shirt out of a trunk and tossed it on Jack's lap. "See if you can manage to put that on without screwing up my handy work."
Vaughn looked around the plane. He had laid Sydney on a fold down cot attached to the opposite wall of the airplane. Will was sitting on the floor beside the cot just staring at her. Vaughn sighed as he walked across the plane and sat down on the floor about ten feet away from Will. He leaned his weary body against the wall, pulled his knees up, and wrapped his arms across his shins. He let his head fall back slightly to rest on the wall.
Vaughn watched Will as he looked at Sydney. He envied Will. Over the past three weeks Vaughn had witnessed Sydney's devotion to this man. If Vaughn had been the one that was kidnapped would Sydney travel across the globe to rescue him? Vaughn hoped that she would, but he knew their relationship was on a whole different level than the relationship she had with Will.
Vaughn envied the simplicity of Will's relationship with Sydney. No clandestine meetings, no counter missions, no fear. Will was free to be with her in public, stop by her house on a whim, and call her just to hear her voice. Will could reach out and touch Sydney without worrying about protocol. He could hug her, hold her, kiss her, and tell her he loved her any time he wanted to.
And Vaughn was certain that Will loved her. Will had transformed himself from newspaper reporter to operative without hesitation. It took a certain kind of person to be an operative, and an even stronger person to participate in a dangerous mission without any training. Will Tippin was either in love or totally insane.
Jack slowly worked the t-shirt over his head. He eventually managed to get both arms through the sleeves. He sat on the bench a few moments longer breathing deeply. Finally Jack stood up and started searching through boxes. Vaughn considered telling Jack to sit down and rest, but he knew it would do no good.
"She's still unconscious." Will commented. He reached out and gently touched a bruise on Sydney's face. "Are you sure she's alright?"
"She's okay," Jack and Vaughn said nearly in unison.
Jack stood up holding several standard issue military belts. He walked slowly over to the cot. Jack took one of the narrow, canvas belts and wrapped it around Sydney's wrist and then around a bar under the cot.
"What are you doing?" Will asked, his voice filled with concern.
Vaughn smiled sadly and shook his head at Will's simple question.
As he continued to tie Sydney's limbs to the cot, Jack answered, "We have 15 hours before we land in LA. At some point Sydney will wake up." Jack looked up at Will momentarily, "And I don't think you're prepared for round two with Sydney."
When he was finished, Jack stood up and faced Will.
"I can tell by the look on your face, Mr. Tippin, that you still haven't figured out what happened to Sydney."
Will objected, "Obviously, they drugged her." Will motioned towards a group of needle marks on Sydney's arm. "Why else would she attack me like that?"
"Yes, they drugged her, Mr. Tippin. Most likely they were attempting to brainwash her. She attacked you because she did not recognize you."
Vaughn stood up and joined the others at the cot. His eyes lingered over Sydney's face, but he dared not touch her as Will did. Vaughn turned to face Will.
"Considering that she was there for less than 24 hours, it's unlikely that they were successful." Vaughn looked down at Sydney again.
"That's good," Will said confidently.
"Yes and no." Vaughn sighed, "Now she's somewhere in between being herself and being completely brain washed."
"And we do not know where she is at on that continuum," Jack interjected.
Vaughn looked at Will and continued, "She doesn't know what is true and what is false. Most importantly, she doesn't know who to trust. She is very confused, and that makes her very dangerous."
"At this point, Sydney has only her instincts to rely on," Jack said. "And her instincts, that of an intelligence operative," Jack said pointedly, "would be to kill anyone she perceives as a threat."
"When she wakes up, she would assess the situation and…"
"Most likely kill everyone on this plane," Jack finished Vaughn's statement.
"These restraints," Vaughn tugged at one of Sydney's wrists, "Are the only thing keeping us," Vaughn pointed to himself and then the other two men, "from the wrath of Sydney."
They were silent for a moment as they gazed at Sydney.
Finally Will said, "Yeah, you know, I think the restraint thing is a good idea."
***
"I need to make a call to Sloane before our cover is blown," Jack said. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and started walking towards the cockpit.
"Oh Jesus! Jack, my story!" Will was frantic. "I told Abbey to publish it if something happened to me! I've… I've been gone too long!"
Jack turned around and faced Will.
"What story?" Vaughn asked.
Will spoke with agitation, "I wrote a story about SD-6… at least what I know about SD-6."
"You did WHAT?" Vaughn yelled. "Do you realize what that will do to our operation?"
Jack interrupted Vaughn's rant, "I knew about your story, Mr. Tippin. It was taken care of before we left for Taipei. Your story is now CIA property."
"Oh, thank God." Will breathed a sigh of relief.
Jack turned and started for the cockpit again.
"What are you going to tell Sloane?" Vaughn asked.
Jack didn't bother to stop this time. "I'm going to tell him that I surprised Sydney with a two week sailing cruise," Jack spoke over his shoulder.
"Will he give you the time off just like that?"
"I'm a senior officer. He has no choice." Jack said. "Plus, I'm going to tell him that we're already on the cruise."
"Are you sure two weeks will be enough time?" Vaughn asked.
"Agent Vaughn, you worry too much," Jack said. He opened the door to the cockpit. "If it turns out that two weeks is not enough, we'll deal with that in two weeks." Jack closed the door behind him, ending the conversation.
***
By the time Jack returned, Will was back at Sydney's side and Vaughn was lying on another fold-down cot.
"We may have a problem," Jack said.
Vaughn sat up quickly. "What?"
"Sloane has been poisoned and is in critical condition. His wife, Emily, is dead."
Vaughn's eyes became wide in disbelief. "What?!"
"SD-6, as well as the LAPD, have launched investigations. Top members of the Alliance are on their way to LA. They want me there immediately."
Vaughn swung his legs over the side of the cot. "Shit! What did you tell them?"
"They gave me 48 hours."
"Two days, Jack! That's not going to be enough time for you to recover from those wounds!"
"I've done more in less time. My wounds will not be a problem."
Vaughn was silent for a moment, trying to figure out if Jack was trying to convince Vaughn or himself. Finally he asked, "What about Sydney?"
"I told them that I would let Sydney make her own decision about when to come back."
"Good. That still gives us time to…"
Jack interrupted Vaughn, "But it will be suspicious if Sydney doesn't come back for Emily's funeral. They were good friends."
Vaughn stood up and ran one hand through his hair. "When?"
"The funeral hasn't been set yet because of the investigation and because there are few close family members outside of Sloane," Jack said. "That buys us a few days." Vaughn nodded.
Will, who had been silent up to this point, turned to them and said, "How do you people live like this?"
*S.O.P. = Standard Operating Procedure