Title: Shattered
Author: Jen
Email: jd108@hotmail.com
Rating: PG
Spoilers: All of season one, and "The Enemy Walks In"
Feedback: This is my first Alias fic, so any feedback – good or bad – would be greatly appreciated!
Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC and Touchstone, and was created by the brilliant JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.
Summary: What if Will had made a different choice? Instead of going along with the drug addict cover story, he joined witness protection…Now, five years later, a certain spy has is about to re-appear, shattering his so-called life…No worries, this will eventually be S/V shipper friendly!
AN: Thanks to ambrose chavez for the wonderful beta, and to everyone who reviewed.
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Meet me behind The Iris Café tonight at 9:10.
See you soon.
The note is so short, so empty. It is the understatement of the century to say that I am disappointed. My hands are still shaking as I fold the paper back up and drop it onto the kitchen table. Five years have passed and there is still that wall of danger; the fear is still binding.
Anger sparks within me, and I wonder if any of this was really worth it. You are still afraid, still running, still hiding…and I still feel responsible.
The hours pass slowly, and the minutes creep by. Turtles walk faster than this, and I desperately try to distract myself from the Ikea clock that hangs on the kitchen wall. The TV bombards me with the same boring shows: perfect lives led by beautiful people. What if TV portrayed the real world? Would we survive the fear, danger, and death? I turn off the television in a sad attempt to shut off my mind. It doesn't work. I am left sitting on my couch, staring into a black screen as I think about my life and what I have become.
I am nothing. I may as well have died, tied to a chair in the dark, damp world I have never quite been able to forget. It comes back so easily, flooding my raw mind and drowning my sense of security. It is only now that I realize how lucky I am to have survived.
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The alley is dark and deserted. I shiver as I lean against the cold, damp bricks. The silence is biting and every noise echoes in my ears. Rain drips off the roof, and in the distance car engines buzz. I wait patiently, ignoring the fear that stabs my gut.
"I'm glad you came." Your voice is soft behind me, and I jump.
"It's so good to see you." I reply, forcing myself to calm down. I hug you despite the fact that we could both die for it. I am surprised when you hug me back.
"You too." There is a pause as you tuck hair behind your ear and glance at our reflection in the window of the adjacent building. You look away, hesitating. "I'm sorry we had to meet like this."
"I know." I answer. "It's ok," I lie. It's not ok. I didn't leave so that we could meet in an alley five years later, still afraid of whatever (or whoever) is lurking in the shadows. I left to save you, to protect you. I left so that you could step into the sunlight, and stop hiding. But I don't tell you that.
"I have a favour to ask you." You announce.
"Sure, anything," I say without thinking. What is it about you that makes me do anything I can to help?
You lean against the wall opposite me and exhale slowly. Your breath forms a silver cloud that swirls into the darkness.
"Five years ago, I made a choice. I thought it was something that needed to be done, something that would give me the will to survive." You pause, glancing up at me. I watch you closely, trying to see where you are going with this. "Do you remember the co-worker that gave me the picture frame?"
"The one who so obviously liked you?" I feel like I'm in the fifth grade all over again.
"Yeah."
"I never met him or anything. All I know is that he worked with you…and that he liked you."
"His name is Michael Vaughn, and a few months after your "death," we started dating. In secret, of course." You glance at me, but I force my face to stay expressionless. "And eventually, after about a year…I got pregnant."
I can't help my jaw from dropping. You notice and look away. I can't find the words to tell you that you shouldn't be ashamed, that I'm just startled.
"Ok…Do you…have a child?" I choke out the words.
"Elise." A smile finally graces your lips. "She's three."
"I bet she's beautiful." I want you to understand that inside, deep down, I happy for you. You could never know how jealous I am, how much I want a family of my own.
"She is…" Your voice falters as you picture her.
"You wanted a favour?" I remind you gently. You nod, straightening your posture before launching into an explanation.
I listen intently as you tell me about your past. Secrets I never knew are unburied as a whole new layer of truth is uncovered. You tell me about SD-6, and about the successful mission to take it, (and its affiliates), down two years after I left. You tell me about the your marriage that I never got to go to, and your honeymoon in Venice. You describe the three years of pure bliss that you spent married to Vaughn, raising your daughter. I could never have expected what you told me next.
"Sloane didn't get captured when we took down SD-6, and he didn't die either. Somehow he escaped. We knew it would just be a matter of time until he found us again." You pause then, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. "We were living in France when he came after us. We've been running for two months now."
"But what do I have to do with all of this?" I ask, completely lost.
"Michael and I were wondering…" You pause. "No, I can't ask you to do this, never mind." You shake your head.
"No, what can I do?" There I go again, speaking before thinking. You swallow.
"We were wondering if you could take Elise." Your proposition hangs in the silence like smog on a typical Los Angeles morning – impenetrable, suffocating and utterly desolate.