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: No.

A/N: We're back to the present.


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"Hello?"

"Where is he?"

"Why, Agent Bristow…however did you manage to get this number?"

"Don't play games with me, you son of a bitch. Where's Vaughn?"

"You have a lot to learn, Agent Bristow. You definitely need to work on self-control. Have a good day, now."

"No! Damn it, Sark, I--"

Sydney turned to Weiss. "He hung up."

"Damn it!" Weiss cursed, slamming his fist on the table. After he had received Sark's message, Weiss had called Sydney up to his room to formulate a plan to rescue Vaughn. Things weren't going well.

Sydney sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Weiss. We'll get him back."

"I know we're going to get him, Sydney. It's how we're going to find him that worries me. What if he's already dead?"

"He's not dead," Sydney said firmly. "He's going to be fine."

Vaughn looked up from his lap when he heard the door open. It had only been a few hours and already his face was a bloody mess. His chest was throbbing where Victor had stabbed him with the scalpel. He scowled when he saw who had entered.

"Why the long face?" Sark smiled, turning some kind of device shaped like a small television remoter over in his hands.

"What do you want now, you bastard?"

Sark tilted his head. "I just want to have a little fun." He held the device up and pressed the single red button on it. Vaughn winced, but nothing happened. He glanced around in confusion. Sark rushed to Vaughn and took a key out of his pocket. He unlocked the handcuffs that restrained Vaughn to the chair and started to help the injured agent up. Vaughn pushed him and backed a few feet away, rubbing his wrists. Sark held up his hands.

"Listen to me, Agent Vaughn. I'm trying to help you."

"I don't understand."

"I can't explain right now. That button I pushed shuts down all security cameras in this quadrant for exactly 200 seconds. You have to trust me!"

"Why?"

Sark took a few steps forward. "Because I'm your brother."

Vaughn's eyes bulged as Sark inched closer.

"Let's go!" Sark ordered. He ran out of the room, pulling Vaughn along with him.

Vaughn ran hard. He ignored the immense pain he was experiencing and the thousands of thoughts running through his head and concentrated on just moving his legs. He heard the guards behind them. He was beginning to grow tired. He heard the gunshots. He saw Sark turn to aim and shoot. He felt the bullet skim his left shoulder. He fell and cried out.

"Okay, if you were a crazy, evil British kid working for Irina Derevko, where would you take a prisoner?"

Sydney glared at Weiss. "That's not funny."

"I was being serious."

Sydney groaned in frustration, her eyes threatening to burn holes through the map she had in front of her. "What are we going to do? We're getting nowhere!"

Weiss remained silent. Suddenly, he exclaimed, "Africa!"
"What?" Sydney asked incredulously.

"If I was Sark, I would take my prisoners to Africa! I mean, who would think to look there?"

Sydney had to smile. "Well, obviously you. That's a nice guess, Weiss, but I highly doubt it."

Weiss slumped down in his seat. "Hey, Sydney, how did you get Sark's number? That was genius!"

Sydney raised an eyebrow. "I have my ways," she said slyly.

Weiss smirked, but his expression quickly became serious again. "Can I ask you something? About Vaughn?"

"Uh…sure, I guess," she replied cautiously.

"Are you in love with him?"

Sark kneeled down next to Vaughn. "Are you alright?" he asked, doing a quick exam of Vaughn's wounded shoulder.

Vaughn glared at the young blond. "Oh, yeah, I'm doing cartwheels."

Sark rolled his eyes. "You'll be fine, it's just a flesh wound," he said, helping Vaughn to stand. Vaughn looked down the corridor they were standing in. Dead bodies were strewn across the floor. He shivered.

"Agent Vaughn, we have to go. Agent Vaughn…Michael."

Vaughn woke from his daze at the sound of his first name. He looked at Sark.

"Michael, we have to get out of here."

Vaughn nodded, and Sark rushed him out of the warehouse, surprisingly without any other interruptions. They hurried into the van they had arrived in and sped off.

"Do I…I…what? I…what?" Sydney stammered.

"It's a yes or no question, Sydney."

"I…well…it's…it's none of your business!" she exclaimed.

Weiss snorted. "That's what I thought."

Sydney raised her eyebrows. "What? What's what you thought?"

"You do."

"I do? Wait…you're confusing me!"

"You're in love with Mike, aren't you?"

"I…I…"

Weiss held up a hand. "Enough with the stammering. I get it."

Sydney gaped at him, her jaw hanging open.

Weiss laughed at her expression. "Relax, Sydney. Your secret's safe with me."

"Gee, I feel so much better knowing that," she muttered, shaking her head.

"Where are you taking me?"

"A safe place."

"Take me back to the Sheraton."

"I will. Later. Right now, we have to get you cleaned up. I don't want your injuries to become infected."

Vaughn paused. He opened his mouth to say something.

"Yes, I really am your brother," Sark said, before Vaughn could ask.

"I don't understand. How is that possible? How old are you?"

"I am twenty-one," he replied.

"But that would mean that you were born in 1981."

"I'm glad you can do math."

"My father died in 1976."

Sark didn't reply.

"Wait…are you saying--"

"Your father didn't die in 1976, Agent Vaughn. It was a set-up."

"A set-up?"

"Yes. Your father re-married in 1979 under the name Benyamin Sark in Galway, Ireland. I was born two years later. My mother died in 1984. I found out later that she was killed. My father…our father was a target of another agency, of K-Directorate. I was only four when he left. He put me in the hands of Irina Derevko, and disappeared. When I was old enough, she told me everything. Why it had happened, how it had happened, what had happened. She was like a mother to me."

"And what about Dad?"

"I haven't seen him since 1985. I don't know what happened to him."

"Derevko never told you?"

"No."

"So…he…he was with the KGB? He was working with the Derevko the whole time?"

"Yes."

Vaughn let out a heavy sigh. He lowered his head and closed his eyes. His father had been a traitor. He was never a hero. He had betrayed his country, betrayed his family…betrayed him. A moment later, the van stopped. Vaughn looked out the window and found himself looking at a small, isolated, brown house.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"My safe house," Sark replied, getting out of the van. Vaughn followed suit and followed Sark up the brick steps to the quaint little home.

"You have a safe house in Hawaii?" Vaughn asked.

Sark turned to him, smiled, and pulled a little key out of his jacket pocket. "Of course I do."

He unlocked the door and pushed it open. Vaughn followed him in. He gasped. Directly in front of him was a glass door with the beautiful, sparkling blue ocean behind it. He looked at Sark.

"This is amazing."

"It is, isn't it?"

"Do you come here often?"

"I haven't been here for a year and a half."

"Who keeps it clean for you?"

"People," Sark replied, not going further. He came up behind Vaughn with a chair. "Sit down. I'll be back with some bandages."

Vaughn sat and looked around the house. Everything was so beautiful. There was a quiet tinkling as Sark's dolphin-shaped window chimes clinked amongst themselves. For the first time that day, he smiled.

Sydney sighed. She tossed angry glances at Weiss, though they did no good. Weiss was sleeping. And snoring. Sydney tapped her index finger against her arm. She couldn't take it anymore. She pushed Weiss off his bed, causing him to yelp. He got up from the floor.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"You were snoring!"
"So you push me off my bed?"

Sydney stood up. "Hey, you're the one who's sleeping while I'm trying to figure out how to get Vaughn back!"

Weiss blinked. Sydney instantly regretted her comment.

"Oh, that's great, Sydney, that's really great. Listen, Michael is my best friend. He's my best friend! There's nothing more that I want right now than for him to be standing right here in this room!"

"I know," Sydney said quietly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"You're damn right you shouldn't have said that!"

They both sighed. Weiss sat down on his bed, his back facing Sydney. "I just…I don't know what to do, Bristow. I'm really worried about him."

Sydney walked around the bed and plopped down next to her agent friend. "I know. I'm worried, too."

"It's just not fair. I mean, how much can the guy go through? It's barely been a month!"

Sydney's eyes filled with tears. "And it's all my mother's fault."

Weiss looked at her. She was looking at the ground. He lifted her chin. "Hey, don't beat yourself up about it, okay?"

"I can't not beat myself up about it, Weiss. I mean, she's my mother. She's the one who's doing all this, and I know it's because of me! Vaughn has to suffer because of me!"

"Sydney, don't make this about you. You aren't your mother. This is about Vaughn. He's the one in trouble right now."

She sniffled and nodded. "I know. I know, but I can't help thinking…what if she kills him?"

"We had this talk already, remember? He's not going to die."

She stood up in a rage. "But what if he does?" she cried. "What if he dies, Weiss? What if he dies by himself in a little room, covered in bruises and cuts? He doesn't deserve that!"

"You're right, Sydney, he doesn't," Weiss said calmly. "But we're going to get him out of there. We have to."

"I'll never forgive myself if he doesn't come back."

Weiss shook his head. "Neither will I, Sydney. Neither will I."

"Lovely," Sark muttered as he cleaned Vaughn's stab wound. He had already bandaged Vaughn's shoulder and applied medication to the cuts and bruises on his face. The stab wound was particularly gruesome.

Vaughn winced as Sark applied the burning liquid to the cut.

"Stay still," Sark ordered. "It will only hurt more if you move."

Vaughn held his breath, waiting for Sark to finish.

"Okay, I'm going to wrap the bandage around your abdomen now. I'm telling you, it's not painless, but I need you to keep still so I can do this, alright?"

Vaughn nodded, still holding his breath. He leaned forward, letting Sark wrap the bandage. A minute later, Sark sat back.

"Alright, I'm all finished."

Vaughn released his breath and breathed in the fresh air. "What now?"

"Well, I suppose now we make a phone call to Ms. Bristow and Mr. Weiss."

"I don't even know where to begin," Sydney said, staring at the map.

"Hell, if you don't know, I don't know. I've never even been here before."

The phone rang. Sydney and Weiss exchanged a look.

"Do you want me to pick it up?"

"I don't know. Do you want to pick it up?"

"I don't know. Do you want to pick it up?"

"I don't know. Do you want me to want you to pick it up?"

"I don't know. Do you want me to want you to want me to pick it up?"

"Never mind, I'll pick it up."

"Yeah, okay, you pick it up."

"Hello?"

"Ah, Sydney, nice to hear your voice again."

Sydney's eyes blazed. "What the hell do you want, you ass?"

She glanced at Weiss, who raised his eyebrows in question. She shrugged.

Sark chuckled. "You need to learn your manners. No need for chitchat right now, though. I have Agent Vaughn with me."

"Where?"

"That's not something you need to--"

"Sark, I swear, if--"

"You'll get him back, Agent Bristow, there's no need for you to worry about that. I'm not going to hurt him. Here, you can talk with him yourself."

She heard a brief shuffle, then, "Sydney?"

She started to fall back, but she grabbed onto the desk. "Vaughn?"

Weiss widened his eyes.

"Vaughn, are you okay?"

"Well, I guess that depends on what your definition of 'okay' is."

"God, Vaughn, where are you?"

"I'm not exactly sure. Sark owns the place, though."

"What?"

"Listen, Syd, don't worry about me, Sark's not going to do anything to hurt me, I swear."

"Vaughn, don't trust him, he's--"

"Honestly, Sydney, I hate to think that you have so little faith in me."

"Sark, if you harm one hair on his--"

"I'm driving him back to the hotel. Meet us at the beach across the street in an hour."

Then there was nothing but the ring tone.

Sydney set the phone back on its hook and turned to Weiss. "Sark is bringing him back, Weiss."

"Vaughn's alright?"

"Well, he's alive. That's what matters."

"When is Sark bringing him?"

"He said to meet him in an hour at the beach across the street."

"This is going to be the longest hour of my life."

A/N: I hope you guys like it! And before people go nuts over Sark being Vaughn's brother, let me say one thing: things aren't always what they seem.