CRASH AND BURN
Author: Eckle Feckle
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own Alias, or any of the characters affiliated with the programme. I write fanfiction under the belief that JJ Abrams, creator of Alias, and holder of the copyright to the show, is not against the production of fanfiction. The song lyrics to 'Crash and Burn' are property of Darren Hayes (Savage Garden).
Summary: Sydney loses touch. A Syd/Vaughn fluff piece, inspired from the lyrics of 'Crash And Burn', by Savage Garden.
Distribution: Fanfiction.net, SD-1.com., and plebb.cjb.net.
Thanks: To anyone who has reviewed my work. It means a lot to know that people can appreciate my work.
Review: Please. Either here, or email me on plebb_nebb@hotmail.com.
Thankyou.
Crash and Burn
"And you seriously believed that?" Francie picked another chip from the bowl sitting in front of her. They were getting seriously low in the snack department.
"What else was I supposed to do?!?" He shook his head, and took another sip of beer from the bottle.
"The woman had a beard!" She threw a chip in Will's direction, who caught it, and promptly shoved it in his mouth.
"That is kinda nasty, Will" Sydney voiced agreement. She was staring into the fire, only half aware of the conversation. Will and Francie barely noticed.
"It wasn't as if I kissed her! Him. Her. Whatever." He leaned over for more junk food, and looked down at Sydney, who was sitting on the floor, leaning against his leg gently. "Syd?"
"mmn...?" She looked up at him, thoughts straying from Will's eager face. "What did you say, sorry?"
"What's up with you? You've been like this all day." Francie stood up, shook crumbs from her trousers and walked to the kitchen. "Is it something to do with that guy?"
Will's interest skyrocketed. "What guy?"
"It's nothing. Just someone I met at the airport."
"He started a fight with her." Francie whispered conspiratorially to him, as she made her way back into the living room, arms loaded with more junk food. "She's got a really bad bruise."
"Let me see it, Syd. What did he do?"
"He just hit me with his umbrella, that's all."
"Why?" Will pulled up the sleeve of her sweater, and inspected the large purple bruise covering half her arm. "Syd, it takes more than an umbrella to do this. What really happened?" She sighed.
"I fell against a suitcase when he hit me with the umbrella, ok? I bruise easily, you guys know that." She managed to silence them with the soft tone of irritation in her voice. She slid the sleeve back over her arm, covering the bruise given lovingly by Anna.
"Are you sure you're ok?"
"She's fine, Will." Francie read the warning in her best friend's voice, and knew to retreat. She would tell her what was wrong eventually. Will wasn't as quick to the mark.
"She's not fine, Francie! Look at her arm!"
"It's nothing, Will! If it were really bad, don't you think I would have gone to the hospital?" Sydney stood from her position against his leg, and lifted her glass. "I'm going to get some fresh air."
"Ok, hun." All it took was time. She would eventually open up, Francie knew. She knew Sydney. She knew her best friend. Shame her best friend was no longer the same person. Sydney stepped out of the living room, opening the back door to the fresh air, and the clear head she ached for. She felt the cold breeze on her face, cooling the headache she could feel stirring in the depths of her mind.
//what's up with me?//
She had no answer for the feeling of numbness that had creeped over her. Since returning from Moscow, she had felt numb… detached. It was as if she was watching everything from a deep place inside her head. She was watching the world through strangers eyes.
//Is it because of Moscow?//
Trying to find a reason for her feeling, she searched her memory of the last mission. Anna, holding her in a headlock, making her watch a faceless K-Directorate agent take a microchip from the unconscious body of Dixon. She had been powerless. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. Had it affected her this deeply?
//No. It's what she said to you.//
She could still hear the venomous spit of anger, as Anna twisted her arm behind her back, lips to her ear.
"Aren't you sick of this yet?"
She had shook her head, tried to escape her grasp. Anna had tightened her grip. Her lips were back at her ear again.
"You're just another number on their payroll. Aren't you sick of it yet?"
The malevolence of her statement sent shivers up Sydney's spine. She had screamed, as Anna twisted her arm further up her back. The rush of pain was all she felt, before she had been struck unconscious.
She still hadn't woken up completely from that blow. She was standing at the back door of her house, empty glass in hand, staring at the sky. Staring through strangers eyes.
//Anna was right.//
She was sick of it. Sick of everything. The lies, the innocent act. She had killed people, a direct consequence of a mission, and here she was, still playing 'truth or dare' with her best friends. How would they act if they really knew?
//Do I care anymore?//
Nothing had clicked back into place this time. She had came home, unpacked, and repeated the mundane activities that would normally keep her grounded. Going to the campus, pleading for an extension, making food with Francie, laughing with Will. These things normally helped her return to the false reality she used to belong to. These things gave her a sense of normalcy, fake as it was. She opened her lungs, inhaling as much fresh air as she could. Perhaps she could flush the feeling out, send it away. Maybe it was just a blockage. Just a phase she was going through…
//It's not a phase.//
She knew deep down in the depths of her mind and heart, this was not a phase she could work through. This was very real, and very dangerous.
//Feelings like this could get you killed.//
She barely heard the phone inside ring, and Francies irritated reply to the caller.
//Time for pizza.//
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Hi. Sorry we had to call you so late." He began, as Sydney entered the warehouse quietly.
"It's fine. What's wrong?" The bright orange seat seemed a comforting sight to her. The joints in her knees felt weak to the heavy weight she was carrying. She sank into it gratefully.
//Look interested.//
Sydney could feel the penetrating gaze of her handler. She tried to give herself a mental shake. It did nothing. Looking up, she was thankful he had already turned his back to her. "There's been a few changes in the counter-mission. When you go to Shanghai tomorrow, you've to add this to the shopping list."
//Twelve hours to go. At least they give me warning this time.//
Vaughn approached her, manila folder in hand. Details of how to get the microchip back. Instructions how to handle SD-6. Orders to deceive her friends, and lie to herself. She took it slowly from his grasp. "Thankyou." Her acknowledgment was quiet, far from heartfelt, but Vaughn didn't notice. She was faced with the dark grey fabric of Vaughn's suit, as he turned his back to her again. Opening the folder, she quickly skimmed the pages, not really caring about the words, absent-mindedly tracing the edges of the folder.
//If I'm looking at classified information through strangers eyes, have I broken protocol?//
She scarcely felt pain, as the sharp edge of the paper sliced into her finger. She looked down, watching with indifference as the bright red blood oozed from the thin cut.
//This should hurt.//
She looked up to see Vaughn, the man who was supposed to care for her, stare at the bright red blood on her finger. She half expected him to pull a bandage from his pocket. Instead, he averted his gaze, and turned back to the crate.
//If I feel indifferent, do it affect those around me, too?//
She should have felt sad, or at least disappointed he hadn't asked if she was ok, but she didn't. She couldn't even feel the sting that normally accompanied a papercut.
"Have you read the file?"
She would have nodded, but the numbness in her body restricted her.
"Yes." She looked down at the file. Nothing had sunk in. She hadn't even read it properly.
"That's all then, Agent Bristow."
//Is this professionalism I detect?//
She stood from the chair, feeling as if she was under water, pressure weighing down on her. Normally they would converse, chitchat, small talk. Tonight, she couldn't find any words.
"Thankyou."
"I'll see you when you come back from Shanghai."
//If I come back.//
She walked, or rather trudged back to her car, which had been dumped carelessly by the side of the road. She hadn't even bothered to put the alarm on.
//What would the CIA do if I crashed my car tonight?//
The bitter laugh was voiced before she had time to think.
//You're not as indispensable as you think you are.//
The drive home was silent, as she obeyed the red lights, stop signs, and speed limits. Sydney was two blocks from her house, when her cell phone sprang to life. Pulling up at the side of the road, she tugged it from the clutches of her purse.
"Hello?"
"Meet me at the park."
//Has he forgotten to tell me another CIA decree?//
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He was sitting on one of the swings, a rhythmic swinging helped mostly by the strong breeze from behind. Sydney walked quietly towards him, passing by, and sitting on the grounded seat of the seesaw. It would have been pitch black, were it not for the singular light perched near the end of the large playground. She could barely make out anything but shadows.
"Hi." His voice was soft, different from before. "How's your finger?" She looked down at her index finger, dried blood covering the top half of it. Wiping it away, she opened the cut again unintentionally.
//What does he want?//
"What's wrong, Vaughn?" She didn't face him, rather turning her back to him, staring into the darkness. He watched her intently.
"I was under surveillance during our meeting. They were evaluating my performance as a handler."
//So that's why he acted differently.//
"I just wanted you to know that."
"Ok. Thanks for letting me know." She knew she was still staring into the darkness, but she just didn't care. Vaughn stopped swinging.
"Syd?"
She felt a stinging in her eyes from staring so hard. Blinking, she realised it was the first feeling she had been aware of since coming back from Moscow. She turned to face her handler, who had a concerned look on his face.
"Are you ok? You really don't seem yourself."
"I'm fine." Looking down, she breathed the comforting reply that he needed to hear. In reality, she was breaking apart. Seeing things through strangers' eyes, feeling things through someone else's emotions. She had become detached, emotionless, dry. This wasn't a stage she was going through. This was what she had become. All the years of lying, hurting and killing. It all culminated in the one act. Anna's acrimonious words were simply a stepping stone.
//I'm simply another statistic.//
It made her cold, to realise this. It was in that moment, when Anna breathed down her neck, she was forced to realise the harsh truth. She didn't mean anything to the CIA. She was just another agent. Nothing special. A few circumstances found her a crucial role in each mission, but in truth, any agent with the right training could take her position.
//I feel cold because nobody needs me.//
She thought back to her friends, most probably still sitting at the fire, eating junk food and telling secrets. They didn't need her. They needed the Sydney she used to be. This one was colder, rougher, soiled. Her friends knew a different person. Someone Sydney couldn't remember how to be. Each time she completed an assignment, a little piece of who she used to be would be stolen.
//I don't know who I am anymore.//
Vaughn observed her silently, still perched on the seat of the swing. "I'm here if you… if you need to talk."
She raised her head again, to look at him. Her vision was blurry. Touching a hand to her face, she realised she had been crying.
"Syd…" He started from the swing, almost ready to draw her into his arms. "Syd, tell me what's wrong." The emotion in his voice betrayed the breaking of his heart.
"I… I don't know." She bowed her head again, and tried to wipe away the tears. "Oh Vaughn…" She felt a rush of emotion, as the force of her confusion pushed her own senses to the forefront of her mind. She suddenly felt the sting of her tears, the tingle of pain in her finger, and the heart wrenching confusion that she had been experiencing. Her shoulders wracked with sobs, as she struggled with her emotions. "… I don't know who I am anymore."
Vaughn dropped his head onto his chest, and took a deep breath. He couldn't talk, for fear of breaking. "Oh, Sydney."
"I'm not just a statistic, am I, Vaughn?" She wiped away at her tears roughly, looking up at him. "Am I really just another number?"
"No!" He looked at her incredulously. "You're not just another number. You're special, don't you understand? You're unique." His eyes glittered in the dim lights from the surrounding lamplight. "You're more than an agent to us, Syd. You're more than that to me…" His voice trailed off, lost in the emotion. Sydney inhaled deeply.
"I just feel as if I've lost myself." She sniffled, and closed her eyes. "Almost as if I can't find myself anymore. I don't know who I am."
"I know who you are, Sydney. You're the only person I know who can be a part of a world where there is deceit, pain and chaos, and remain untainted." His emerald eyes sparkled. "You're amazing."
//He knows exactly what to say to me.//
//He knows me.//
She wiped away the last of her tears, and locked her gaze with Vaughn. She realised his eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.
//He feels what I feel.//
"Thankyou." For the first time since Moscow, she truly felt something. Vaughn stood from the swing, and walked towards her. She took a deep breath, and watched as he walked slowly to the end of the seesaw, across from her. His smile lit up the playground, as he stepped onto the raised seat, and pulled it down. She felt herself rise, and remain parallel to the ground. Vaughn sat across from her, a radiant smile on his face, knowing he'd just helped her breathe again. Sydney smiled back, knowing she'd just found what she needed to breathe.
//He gives me balance.//
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When you feel all alone and the world has turned its back on you, give me a moment please to tame your wild, wild heart. I know you feel like the walls are closing in on you. It's hard to find release, and people can be so cold. When darkness is upon your door and you feel like you can't take anymore;
Let me be the one you call, if you jump I'm willing to follow, lift you up and fly away with you into thee night. If you need to fall apart, well I can mend a broken heart. If you need to crash, then crash and burn. You're not alone.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*