Title: Beyond Transgression, 8/9
Author: Chocolatequeen
Email: g_chocolatequeen@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: I don't own Alias or any of the pieces and parts thereof.
Rating: PG
Summary: ATY from the perspectives of different characters
Transgressive-1. Exceeding a limit or boundary, especially of social
acceptability. 3. Of or relating to geological transgression (Webster)
Chapter 8: Transgressive-Vaughn's POV
I can hear the water rushing behind us, almost lapping at my heels as we turn the corner, racing against time trying to get away. Then I see the door, and I know I'm not going to make it. I've never been a runner but there's no use berating myself for that now. Ahead of me, Sydney slips through the door and tries to hold it open, but she's powerless against the mechanical force pulling it closed. It shuts with a resounding thud, leaving me on the other side. with the water.
As I prepare for the force of the wave, a small, distanced part of my brain realizes that I'm witnessing first hand that moment when a body of water begins to overflow onto the surrounding land. Here, there are no dikes. There are no levies. It's just the water, and me, the land. No matter how hard I wrack my brain, I can't find a single way to prevent this. There's nothing around that could stop the water from reaching me, and there's no place I can run from it. I'm trapped.
The interminable wait is suddenly over. Swelling behind me, the water and the power behind it slams me relentlessly into the door. I can feel the bump on my head form almost instantly, but I'm too concerned with my next breath to be too bothered by that.
Opening my eyes, I look out the window and realize that Sydney is still there. What's she doing? She needs to get out of here! No, put down the fire extinguisher, don't worry about me! Syd, there's a guard coming up behind you-turn around!
My lungs are starting to burn from the lack of oxygen, and suddenly I realize that I'm going to die. I know it sounds stupid that I'm just now realizing this, but drowning was not on my list of ways I thought I'd go. I always thought I'd die young-I guess having a father who was killed in the line of duty does that to you-but I never figured I'd drown.
I've heard people say that during a near death experience, your entire life flashes before your eyes, and you see clearly all the things you should have done differently. To be honest, I never really believed it until now. Now I know they were right. In a second, everything I've ever done flashes through my brain and crystallizes into one thought: I never had a chance to explore the feelings I have for Sydney.
My mind goes back over all the times when we were so close to that line-so close that by CIA definition, we were miles past it. It's hard to explain, but the CIA has strict rules for conduct between agents, especially agent and handler. Even giving her a Christmas present was against their rules. I'd hate to think what they would have said if they'd heard her say she was quitting and ask me out to a hockey game. What if they knew that I told her that even though I couldn't, I wanted to-that I wanted nothing more than to be able to be with her in public and look at her, and know that it wasn't putting her in any danger? Or what if they found out about the time I asked her if she was romantically interested in anyone, or when I suggested we go out to Trattoria di Nardi?
Tratorria di Nardi. yet another opportunity lost. When we got back, we promised we'd go "Next time" even though we both knew there wasn't likely to be a next time. Just saying those words made it easier to hope that someday we would have normal life where we could be together. Now I'm dying, and I know that all our next times are dying with me, and I realize that it all boils down to this: I love Sydney and I never told her.
A part of me regrets not having done so, now that I know I'll never have the chance, but I know that if I had, it would have put her life at risk. I'd rather die with her not knowing than watch her die because I couldn't handle not having her with me. Even now, this slow death is because I put her in front of myself. I knew it wouldn't be safe to go after her, but I did it because I love her and I was worried.
All these thoughts go through my mind in less than a minute. As my vision fades to black, I see the guard surprise Sydney from behind and watch her lose the fight to him. I feel myself drift to the bottom of the hallway, and my last thought before I pass out is that she should have left-her life is more important than mine.
Later, I have no idea how long, I wake up. Damp, groggy, and tied to a chair, I am disoriented for a moment. I thought the afterlife would have a little more sunshine. Then I hear a metallic scrape as the door swings open, and I realize that I'm alive-a prisoner, but alive.
The shadowy figure of a woman steps into the room, and a voice made scratchy by years of delivering orders says "Well hello Mr. Vaughn. You are much more difficult to kill than your father was."
Chapter 8: Transgressive-Vaughn's POV
I can hear the water rushing behind us, almost lapping at my heels as we turn the corner, racing against time trying to get away. Then I see the door, and I know I'm not going to make it. I've never been a runner but there's no use berating myself for that now. Ahead of me, Sydney slips through the door and tries to hold it open, but she's powerless against the mechanical force pulling it closed. It shuts with a resounding thud, leaving me on the other side. with the water.
As I prepare for the force of the wave, a small, distanced part of my brain realizes that I'm witnessing first hand that moment when a body of water begins to overflow onto the surrounding land. Here, there are no dikes. There are no levies. It's just the water, and me, the land. No matter how hard I wrack my brain, I can't find a single way to prevent this. There's nothing around that could stop the water from reaching me, and there's no place I can run from it. I'm trapped.
The interminable wait is suddenly over. Swelling behind me, the water and the power behind it slams me relentlessly into the door. I can feel the bump on my head form almost instantly, but I'm too concerned with my next breath to be too bothered by that.
Opening my eyes, I look out the window and realize that Sydney is still there. What's she doing? She needs to get out of here! No, put down the fire extinguisher, don't worry about me! Syd, there's a guard coming up behind you-turn around!
My lungs are starting to burn from the lack of oxygen, and suddenly I realize that I'm going to die. I know it sounds stupid that I'm just now realizing this, but drowning was not on my list of ways I thought I'd go. I always thought I'd die young-I guess having a father who was killed in the line of duty does that to you-but I never figured I'd drown.
I've heard people say that during a near death experience, your entire life flashes before your eyes, and you see clearly all the things you should have done differently. To be honest, I never really believed it until now. Now I know they were right. In a second, everything I've ever done flashes through my brain and crystallizes into one thought: I never had a chance to explore the feelings I have for Sydney.
My mind goes back over all the times when we were so close to that line-so close that by CIA definition, we were miles past it. It's hard to explain, but the CIA has strict rules for conduct between agents, especially agent and handler. Even giving her a Christmas present was against their rules. I'd hate to think what they would have said if they'd heard her say she was quitting and ask me out to a hockey game. What if they knew that I told her that even though I couldn't, I wanted to-that I wanted nothing more than to be able to be with her in public and look at her, and know that it wasn't putting her in any danger? Or what if they found out about the time I asked her if she was romantically interested in anyone, or when I suggested we go out to Trattoria di Nardi?
Tratorria di Nardi. yet another opportunity lost. When we got back, we promised we'd go "Next time" even though we both knew there wasn't likely to be a next time. Just saying those words made it easier to hope that someday we would have normal life where we could be together. Now I'm dying, and I know that all our next times are dying with me, and I realize that it all boils down to this: I love Sydney and I never told her.
A part of me regrets not having done so, now that I know I'll never have the chance, but I know that if I had, it would have put her life at risk. I'd rather die with her not knowing than watch her die because I couldn't handle not having her with me. Even now, this slow death is because I put her in front of myself. I knew it wouldn't be safe to go after her, but I did it because I love her and I was worried.
All these thoughts go through my mind in less than a minute. As my vision fades to black, I see the guard surprise Sydney from behind and watch her lose the fight to him. I feel myself drift to the bottom of the hallway, and my last thought before I pass out is that she should have left-her life is more important than mine.
Later, I have no idea how long, I wake up. Damp, groggy, and tied to a chair, I am disoriented for a moment. I thought the afterlife would have a little more sunshine. Then I hear a metallic scrape as the door swings open, and I realize that I'm alive-a prisoner, but alive.
The shadowy figure of a woman steps into the room, and a voice made scratchy by years of delivering orders says "Well hello Mr. Vaughn. You are much more difficult to kill than your father was."