Gone and Back Again
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Alias. They belong to ABC and J.J. Abrams. I own only the characters that have not appeared on Alias and none of my storylines will be used in upcoming episodes.
Spoilers: Maybe.
A/N: This chapter and the last were originally going to be put together. I felt that they are separate stories, and that they do not belong together. This chapter is in Vaughn's POV. Now, I've never done a fan fic in the first person before, and I'm quite sure this will be the first and last time, as I enjoy writing as a viewer, rather than the actual character.
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REWIND *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I left my hotel room half an hour early. I figured that if I stayed, Weiss would have eventually come to my room to try and talk me out of leaving. Not that he could, of course. I took the elevator down to the lobby and walked toward the front exit. As I strolled along, trying to keep my emotions to a minimum, I took a glance at the front desk. One of the clerks flashed me a quick, polite smile. Her nametag said Monica.
I reached the outside and inhaled the sweet-smelling air around me. The sun was going down, and it was beautiful. I walked around the hotel and to the back. True, I could've just gone out the back doors, but where's the fun in that? I walked through the crowd hotel workers rushing around, making the final preparations for the luau. I paused when I reached the road that separated the beach from me.
I could back out of this whole thing right now. I could get help. Get back up. But no, it was too late. And too risky. It was now or never. I stepped onto the black pavement and went straight the beach's parking lot. I concentrated on the view in front of me because I knew that if I looked in any direction other than forward...I would lose my nerve.
I could see it now. The van, that is. At the very end of the lot and in the very last stall. There it was. Standing tall in its blue glory. I walked toward it, and with every step came a new splash of fear. Finally, I reached the vehicle. The side door rolled open, and out he stepped.
"Agent Vaughn. Thank you for arriving early. I do appreciate promptness."
I rolled my eyes at that. "Let's just get this over with, Sark," I said curtly.
"Mr. Sark," he corrected.
"You know, I really don't give a damn."
Sark sighed dramatically. "Agent Vaughn, do try to maintain a tame attitude. I'm sure you're aware that Ms. Derevko does not respond to snarking very well."
I didn't reply.
"Now, if you would..." he gestured to the van.
I hesitated. But I sucked in a deep breath and stepped in. He slammed the door when he climbed behind me.
"It's not a long ride, Agent Vaughn. Just about an hour or so. You're welcome to make yourself comfortable."
I leaned against the window and stared out of it as the van started. As we passed the beautiful, sparkling ocean, tons of realizations come flying out me. If I didn't make it out of this...
I would never see Sydney again. Sydney. I smiled a little as I repeated her name in my head. Sydney Bristow. Beautiful, brave, classy Sydney Bristow. And to think that I never got to tell her.
Weiss. My best friend. My beer and pizza buddy. I'd never see him again, either. The knowledge of that was still not completely within my grasp.
Donovan. I silently chuckled to myself as I thought of him. He was my other half. My...my...I guess I could call him my confidante. He was, in a way. He was always willing to listen, and never once did I heard a complaint from him. He was a good dog.
Mom. My heart sank. What would they tell her? The truth? No. Of course not. I could picture the conversation:
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Vaughn..." Devlin would say, seated on what Mom liked to call the 'guest couch.'
"Miz," she would correct. "I am not married anymore, Mr. Devlin."
"Of course," he would reply with a tight smile, "Ms. Vaughn, I'm sorry, but.....this is very hard for me to tell you..."
"For God's sake man, get on with it," Mom would say.
"Your son was killed."
He'd blurt it out. I know he would.
"Excuse me?" she'd demand. Mom never did catch things the first time.
"Michael died bravely, Ms. Vaughn, I promise you that. He was shot...multiple times, while fighting the enemy. Just like William."
Mom wouldn't say anything. That was a given. She'd just stare out Devlin with her terrified expression. She did the same thing when that other CIA agent came to tell us that Dad died.
Just keep staring. Devlin would then begin to fell uncomfortable. Not only from Mom's stare, but also because he had the nerve to lie to this poor woman. She'd be alone. All alone. Alone and heartbroken.
I felt a tear run down my cheek, but I quickly wiped it away. I couldn't think like that.
"Agent Vaughn," Sark said.
I turned my head and shot him a glare. "What?"
"We've arrived."
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Alias. They belong to ABC and J.J. Abrams. I own only the characters that have not appeared on Alias and none of my storylines will be used in upcoming episodes.
Spoilers: Maybe.
A/N: This chapter and the last were originally going to be put together. I felt that they are separate stories, and that they do not belong together. This chapter is in Vaughn's POV. Now, I've never done a fan fic in the first person before, and I'm quite sure this will be the first and last time, as I enjoy writing as a viewer, rather than the actual character.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
REWIND *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I left my hotel room half an hour early. I figured that if I stayed, Weiss would have eventually come to my room to try and talk me out of leaving. Not that he could, of course. I took the elevator down to the lobby and walked toward the front exit. As I strolled along, trying to keep my emotions to a minimum, I took a glance at the front desk. One of the clerks flashed me a quick, polite smile. Her nametag said Monica.
I reached the outside and inhaled the sweet-smelling air around me. The sun was going down, and it was beautiful. I walked around the hotel and to the back. True, I could've just gone out the back doors, but where's the fun in that? I walked through the crowd hotel workers rushing around, making the final preparations for the luau. I paused when I reached the road that separated the beach from me.
I could back out of this whole thing right now. I could get help. Get back up. But no, it was too late. And too risky. It was now or never. I stepped onto the black pavement and went straight the beach's parking lot. I concentrated on the view in front of me because I knew that if I looked in any direction other than forward...I would lose my nerve.
I could see it now. The van, that is. At the very end of the lot and in the very last stall. There it was. Standing tall in its blue glory. I walked toward it, and with every step came a new splash of fear. Finally, I reached the vehicle. The side door rolled open, and out he stepped.
"Agent Vaughn. Thank you for arriving early. I do appreciate promptness."
I rolled my eyes at that. "Let's just get this over with, Sark," I said curtly.
"Mr. Sark," he corrected.
"You know, I really don't give a damn."
Sark sighed dramatically. "Agent Vaughn, do try to maintain a tame attitude. I'm sure you're aware that Ms. Derevko does not respond to snarking very well."
I didn't reply.
"Now, if you would..." he gestured to the van.
I hesitated. But I sucked in a deep breath and stepped in. He slammed the door when he climbed behind me.
"It's not a long ride, Agent Vaughn. Just about an hour or so. You're welcome to make yourself comfortable."
I leaned against the window and stared out of it as the van started. As we passed the beautiful, sparkling ocean, tons of realizations come flying out me. If I didn't make it out of this...
I would never see Sydney again. Sydney. I smiled a little as I repeated her name in my head. Sydney Bristow. Beautiful, brave, classy Sydney Bristow. And to think that I never got to tell her.
Weiss. My best friend. My beer and pizza buddy. I'd never see him again, either. The knowledge of that was still not completely within my grasp.
Donovan. I silently chuckled to myself as I thought of him. He was my other half. My...my...I guess I could call him my confidante. He was, in a way. He was always willing to listen, and never once did I heard a complaint from him. He was a good dog.
Mom. My heart sank. What would they tell her? The truth? No. Of course not. I could picture the conversation:
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Vaughn..." Devlin would say, seated on what Mom liked to call the 'guest couch.'
"Miz," she would correct. "I am not married anymore, Mr. Devlin."
"Of course," he would reply with a tight smile, "Ms. Vaughn, I'm sorry, but.....this is very hard for me to tell you..."
"For God's sake man, get on with it," Mom would say.
"Your son was killed."
He'd blurt it out. I know he would.
"Excuse me?" she'd demand. Mom never did catch things the first time.
"Michael died bravely, Ms. Vaughn, I promise you that. He was shot...multiple times, while fighting the enemy. Just like William."
Mom wouldn't say anything. That was a given. She'd just stare out Devlin with her terrified expression. She did the same thing when that other CIA agent came to tell us that Dad died.
Just keep staring. Devlin would then begin to fell uncomfortable. Not only from Mom's stare, but also because he had the nerve to lie to this poor woman. She'd be alone. All alone. Alone and heartbroken.
I felt a tear run down my cheek, but I quickly wiped it away. I couldn't think like that.
"Agent Vaughn," Sark said.
I turned my head and shot him a glare. "What?"
"We've arrived."