Chapter Seven: Come Away With Me
The weather could not have been more perfect. The afternoon sky was powder blue and peppered with peaceful, fluffy clouds as the sun warmed everything it touched, including Will Tippin's smiling face as he reclined in a beach chair, a good book in hand. He had just propped the book open on his stomach and taken a sip of lemonade when a gorgeous brunette appeared, hovering over him with a pleasant smile and a bottle of massage oil.
"Will," She cooed, her voice low and soothing. Will was startled, but he quickly recovered, putting the book aside.
"Hey," He said, putting on his best smile. "I know you from somewhere."
"Will," She said again, her voice imploring as she held up the bottle and wiggled it.
Will's eyes traveled the length of her sun-tanned, bikini-clad body. "I swear I know you from somewhere," He looked up into her eyes and then grinned. "Your voice sounds so familiar."
"Will. C'mon, Will," The woman coaxed, more insistent this time. She bent over and reached out to Will, her hand moist with massage oil. As she began to rub his chest, Will let out a low moan.
"Oh, that's nice," He said, his eyes squeezing closed as his body flooded with contentment. The woman suddenly grabbed Will's arm and shook it, her grip tighter than what he considered comfortable. "Hey!" Will protested.
The woman brought her face close to Will's ear. "Will," She pleaded. "Will, you need to wake up."
Will's eyes sprang open and he suddenly found himself far away from the beach chair, the sunny afternoon and the good book with a glass of lemonade. As Will came back to his senses and realized that he had been asleep and dreaming, he knew that the dark figure next to his bed should not be there. Will drew back against his pillows and did the first thing that came to mind. He screamed.
Sydney Bristow sat quickly on the edge of the bed and leaned in, gently grasping Will's shoulders. "Will," She said soothingly, her mouth curving into a smile. "That's the second time in our friendship that the sight of me has made you scream. If you do it again, you'll give me a complex."
"Oh, my god," Will sputtered, relieved. "I'm sorry, Syd, I was just - I was having this amazing dream," He smiled, enjoying the memory.
Sydney snickered. "I heard you moan. Trust me when I say I don't want to know the details."
Will bunched his pillow up behind him and sat up straight, blinking hard to clear the last of sleep from his eyes. He glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table and raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"Syd, it's two-thirty in the morning," He said. "Why did you wake me up?"
Sydney sighed and reached for one of Will's hands. "I'm leaving, Will," She said simply. "The committee made their decision, and it wasn't good."
Will's eyes were wide. "They're sending him overseas, aren't they?" When Sydney nodded, Will hung his head and sighed. He looked up suddenly, his eyes troubled. "How long will you be gone?"
Sydney swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat. "I don't know," She answered honestly. "It could be a long time."
"Until SD-6 goes down," Will guessed, waiting for Sydney to concur. When she said nothing, he pulled back from her, withdrawing his hand. "What are you saying, Syd? That I might never see you again?" He couldn't help the flash of anger that shone in his eyes.
Seeing this, Sydney jumped in quickly. "Will, I can't promise anything, but if there's a way-"
"This sucks, Sydney," Will interrupted her, his voice strong with truth. "SD-6 has ruined your life in more ways than anyone can count. And now, for the second time, they're ruining mine. And hey, what about Francie, Syd? She doesn't know the truth. All she's gonna know is that her best friend is gone without a trace, and no one seems to know how or why."
Sydney couldn't fight the tears any longer; they filled her eyes, blurring Will's face before finally spilling down her cheeks.
"I know, Will, I know," She said, her voice choked with tears. "This is the hardest decision I've ever made. I don't want to leave you, or Francie, or my dad," She paused as a sob escaped, the next words the hardest to say. "Or my mom."
Will's hard expression melted as his heart broke for her. He leaned forward and quietly pulled Sydney into his arms, embracing her tightly as she cried on his shoulder.
"I didn't mean to upset you, Syd," Will said when they parted, Sydney wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "It's just the impact that this is going to have on the people left behind," His voice trailed off, suddenly aware that he couldn't find words adequate enough for what he was feeling. He let the silence speak for itself.
Sydney stared down at her hands until she was sure her emotions were in check. When she raised her head and met Will's eyes, her voice came in a whisper that was fierce with conviction. "You're right, Will," She said. "SD-6 has ruined my life. But the CIA gave it back when they gave me Michael Vaughn."
Will couldn't help the pang of jealousy that gripped him suddenly like a hand around his heart. His brow furrowed and he lowered his eyes, trying to appear distracted by a hole he had found in the blanket as his fingers clutched the thin brushed cotton material.
"You love him," Will managed, his voice distant.
Sydney knew what Will's feelings were. She knew that he had tried to champion her cause and had tried to be a cheerleader for her and Vaughn, but now, faced with the possibility of never seeing her again, he was torn. She reached out and placed a hand on top of Will's, catching his fingers between her own.
"I do, Will," Sydney replied. "But that doesn't change what you mean to me."
"I wish I meant what Vaughn meant," Will blurted, surprising himself. He met Sydney's eyes again and was instantly sorry. He apologized quickly. "Syd, I didn't want to throw that on the heap of things you've got on your mind right now."
"It's okay," Sydney assured him, squeezing his hand. She smiled, and they sat in silence for a few moments more, both of them unsure exactly how to say goodbye. Finally, Sydney spoke again, pulling her hand from Will's as she reached into the pocket of her black pants. "Can you give this to Francie for me?"
Will accepted the folded sheet of paper and knew what it was by the weight and feel of it. "Do you want me to be there with her while she reads it?"
"She'll need you, Will, when she learns the truth," Sydney nodded, her eyes troubled. "I struggled with that, whether or not to tell her. But I don't want her getting crazy over me being gone, thinking I've been kidnapped or murdered or something," She shook her head. "And the paper-"
"Dissolve it in water when she's finished," Will interjected, reaching over to slip the letter into the top drawer of the bedside table. "I know the drill."
Sydney thanked him, then grew serious, her eyes searching his to make sure he understood. "Will, people may come around asking about me," She told him. "You've got to be certain that you and Francie understand that you have to claim complete ignorance. If they think you know anything, they'll do whatever they can to find out what it is."
Will instinctively reached up and rubbed his jaw, his tongue poking into the space left behind when his tooth was violently extracted. His eyes flashed in anger as the memories invaded his mind. He was helpless to stop them.
"I understand," He said, looking away. "I'll make Francie understand. I'll show her my mouth. You know how afraid she is of the dentist." Will smiled as Sydney chuckled, a smile brightening her tear stained face.
"I'll miss you, Will," Sydney reached out to lightly touch his face, her fingers grazing his cheek. Will smiled back at her, though his blue eyes were sad. He echoed her words, wanting to add that he already missed her, but he held back, knowing this was hard enough on Sydney as it was. She stood up from the bed and Will did, too, freeing himself from a tangle of bed sheets. Sydney and Will embraced, holding each other tight.
Will had a million questions swarming his head, things he wanted to know, plans he wanted to be let in on. There was a part of him that wondered how Sydney could do this, just pick up and go, leave her life behind. But there was another part of him that knew her life here was not the ideal one she had planned before SD-6 and the CIA. Everything that had happened since Danny had been killed was by someone else's design, a life that was scheduled on another person's agenda. Sydney had wanted no part of it, but she had played along, immersing herself into the fray to right old wrongs and give her future a fighting chance. And now she was cashing in, taking back what was hers and leaving before it was too late to get out alive.
Will could find no fault in this. He knew only a small portion of the sacrifice she given, and he could only wonder how she had managed to put up with it for so long. Thinking about it that way, he could see how leaving seemed to be the best, and only, choice to make.
"I understand," Will suddenly said, pulling back from Sydney. They'd been hugging for at least five minutes, holding on to each other with the intensity only a strong friendship could generate. Sydney searched his eyes, and he nodded. "You have a life you want to live, and you have every right," He knew she would not miss what he meant as he continued. "You've already paid your dues."
Sydney's eyes were wet again as she withdrew from Will, her heart aching. "Thank you, Will, for everything," She said. "After Danny, you were strong for me, and I appreciate that. And once you learned the truth, you stuck by me-"
"You saved my life," Will reminded her emphatically. "How could I not stick by you? Syd, you're my best friend." He watched helplessly as Sydney turned away, tears threatening to fall. She went towards the bedroom door where she had left her two suitcases, large black soft side bags filled with as much of her life as it was safe to carry.
Bending to pick up the bags, Sydney tried to force a smile, tried to pretend that this wasn't tearing her apart. She turned back to Will wearing a brave face. "I've gotta go," She said, her voice faltering.
Will came to her side, his own eyes shining. "Syd, one more thing," He said. "About a year ago, before I knew anything, there was one day when you were leaving for what Francie and I thought was yet another business trip. We gave you static about it, telling you to quit your stupid job, and you got angry. You told us that if we really knew what you did for a living, we'd thank you." Will rested his hands on Sydney's shoulders, looking deeply into her eyes. "Syd," He said. "Thank you."
Sydney's face crumpled as she dissolved into tears, dropping her bags to throw her arms around Will's neck. "I will see you again," She breathed, pressing her lips to Will's cheek for a goodbye kiss. He returned it and then helped her with her bags before opening the bedroom door.
They stood and looked at each other for a moment, then Sydney finally said goodbye. "I've arranged for someone to come and box up my things to go into storage," She said, whispering so she wouldn't wake Francie. "But tell Francie she can go through my leftover clothes and take what she wants. And you can raid my CD collection."
"I've told you before, I don't like Yanni," Will couldn't resist a last minute dig, and the two of them laughed quietly, standing in the hallway. Will squeezed Sydney's arm. "Be safe, Syd. I'll see you soon." He smiled, hoping for truth in that statement. Sydney smiled back and left the hallway, heading for the front room and the front door as behind her Will went back into his room and closed the door.
Sydney paused in the living room to take a framed photo of herself with Will and Francie, looking at it sadly for a moment before sliding it into the side pocket of one of her bags. She then picked them up again and was just about to the front door when she heard a soft, sleepy voice behind her.
"Syd?"
Sydney turned to see Francie in the kitchen doorway, wrapped in a robe, a glass of water in her hand.
"Fran," Sydney said, startled. "What are you doing up?"
"I was thirsty," Francie raised the glass of water as her brow furrowed, her face wearing an expression of concern. "What are you doing?" She looked Sydney from head to toe, taking in the sight of her dressed in all black, her long hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. She noticed the bags and sighed. "Oh, Syd, are you going out of town again?"
Sydney's voice caught on the lump in her throat. "Yeah," She finally managed. "Another trip."
Francie shook her head, her countless complaints about Sydney's job not needing repetition. Instead, she walked towards her friend and slid an arm around her, pulling Sydney into a hug.
"Have a safe trip," She said, squeezing Sydney's shoulders. "I'll see you when you get back."
"Yeah," Sydney breathed, holding Francie tight. "I'll see you."
Francie pulled back and smiled at Sydney, seeming not to notice the tears rimming her best friend's eyes. She turned back towards the kitchen, returning to her glass of water. Sydney watched her for a moment before turning her eyes to the rest of the room, her mind memorizing the house and the memories contained within its four walls. Sniffing silently, Sydney picked up her bags once more and walked out, the door closing on her life with a final, quiet click.
Jack Bristow sat in front of his flickering TV set pondering the dichotomy between being too tired to read and yet not tired enough to go to sleep.
He had tossed and turned in bed for nearly two hours, catching mere minutes of sleep at a time before waking with wide eyes and an over-active mind. Sitting up against the headboard, he had reached for a book he kept at the bedside and turned on the lamp. It wasn't long, however, before the letters forming each word on the page melted into nothing but small squares of black ink and he, feeling even more restless than before, was forced to return the book to its place.
Jack had gotten out of bed and wandered the house, tightening the sash on his deep blue silk robe as he checked the windows and doors, a common practice when he couldn't sleep. At the end of this routine, he stopped by the kitchen for a bite of leftover Chinese take-out before continuing on to the living room to sit down in front of the TV.
Jack had never considered himself a TV watcher; he preferred books when choosing visual entertainment. But that night, as sleep proved elusive, he settled into the couch with the remote in one hand and a bottle of Evian in the other. His interest in an infomercial for tub and tile cleaner was just beginning to grow when he heard a key in the front door, followed by the beep of the keypad as his alarm system was disarmed.
Rising from the couch, Jack muted the TV and then turned to walk into the front entry. He was halfway there when he met Sydney in the hallway; she appeared to be startled at the sight of him.
"You look dressed for a burglary," Jack observed, giving his daughter the once over. "Were you hoping I'd be asleep?"
Sydney squared her shoulders, her expression even. "It doesn't matter," She said. "I was going to wake you." The sight of her father brought on a rush of feelings, ones she had pushed away earlier in the day. The memory of being outside her mother's cell and realizing her father had betrayed her forced anger to the front of the line. "We need to talk."
Jack had grown adept over the last year and a half at reading his daughter's eyes; he was surprised to see a flame in them now. He was expecting sadness or despair, but only because he had spent the day convincing himself Sydney couldn't know the one thing that would cause her to get angry in the midst of all that was happening. He was about to find out that he was wrong.
Jack unwittingly opened the floodgates himself. "Speaking of talk, I heard you had a rather heated discussion with Kendall."
"Yes, I did," Sydney said, following her father as he started down the hall, turning lights on as he went. When they reached the large, airy kitchen, Sydney stopped by the center island and crossed her arms over her chest.
Jack opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of mineral water before moving to the cabinet to pull down two drinking glasses. "You think he said something to the committee to influence their decision to send Vaughn to France."
As Jack began to pour the beverages, Sydney narrowed her eyes at him as she fought to stay in control. It was obvious to her that her father was not going to simply own up to what he had done; his decision to treat it lightly only fanned her anger to flame.
"That's what I used to think," Sydney said coolly, her eyes never leaving Jack's face as he set a glass of water in front of her. "But now I know," She went on, her voice rising slightly. "Kendall didn't say anything to the committee. It was you."
The kitchen was silent except for the hum of the refrigerator as Sydney's accusation hung in the air between her and her father. Jack didn't respond at first; he simply looked into his water glass as if something would appear inside it to tell him how to best handle this situation. Nothing did, so he decided to go with his first instinct and react with indignation.
"Do you honestly believe," He began, his voice low and controlled. "That I have the kind of power it would take to influence the Intelligence Oversight Committee?" He met Sydney's eyes, his expression stoic, his mouth a hard line.
Sydney pointed at her father, her finger dotting the air to mark emphasis on her words. "I don't know how you did it, I just know that you did. It's just like before, when you tried to keep me from my mother. Only this time, you're trying to keep me from Vaughn." Sydney paused, breathing deeply to keep her emotions in control. "What hurts me the most about it, though, is that every time I think we've made progress in our relationship, you do something like this. We take three steps forward and you shove us one giant step back."
Jack's grip on the water glass was so tight he was afraid he would shatter it. He set it on the countertop and let several moments of silence pass, collecting his thoughts and allowing Sydney some time to cool down. Her eyes never left his face as she waited for him to speak.
"Sydney," Jack said, his expression softening. "I'm trying to protect you."
The words had barely left his mouth before Sydney pounced upon them. "From what?" She demanded. "A second chance at love? My first chance at a real life?" She threw her hands up, exasperated. "Dad, I don't need to be protected anymore. I need to be happy."
"This won't lead to happiness," Jack interjected, his eyes hard. "Trust me on this."
"Why?" Sydney asked. "Why should I trust you? Because you think you've gone through this? This is completely different from your experience." She turned away from him then, shaking her head as thoughts came hard and fast. When she was able to face him again, her expression was a mix of pity and contempt. "Please don't try to reverse your failures through me. And don't ever try to come between me and my future."
Jack pulled back, wounded by her words. His failure, his marriage to Irina, was a scar he would bear for life, one that was vulnerable. Sydney had zeroed in on it and taken a cheap shot. Jack knew she only wanted to knick him, to make him bleed a little as a penance for what he'd done, but his pride wouldn't allow him to excuse it.
"A future of what?" He demanded loudly. "Hiding? Running for your lives? Living out of suitcases, never knowing where you'll sleep each night?" Jack didn't back down, even when Sydney's wide eyes made it obvious he'd hit a nerve. "Sydney, how is it wrong that I am trying to shelter you from that hardship?"
Fighting with her emotions, Sydney took a step closer to her father, balling her hands into fists as she struggled with the words that would make him understand what this meant to her.
"Did you stop to think, Dad, that this may be a hardship that I want?" She questioned. "This is the first decision in a long time that I alone have the power to make, and I won't let you steal it from me, like you did with so many choices in my life." Sydney couldn't hold back the hot tears that sprang to her eyes. "I don't need you to shelter me, Dad. In fact, I don't need anything from you. I can take care of myself. You've seen to that."
The truth of those words struck Jack like a blow. He turned away, unable to stand to see Sydney cry. He knew, too often, he was the source of those tears. It was the worst pain a father could know, seeing his daughter cry and knowing he was the cause.
Jack picked up his water glass and carried it to the sink. Pouring the liquid down the drain, he spoke, his voice bearing none of its previous strength. "Your clothes, the fact that it's three a.m.- I can gather from this that you're leaving tonight."
Sydney nodded, sniffing quietly. "Yes, we are. I wanted to let you know so that you wouldn't think something had happened to me. But you understand I can't tell you anything, for your own safety. I'm sure you'll be the first person Security Section pulls in for questioning."
"Speaking of SD-6," Jack said, turning back to face his daughter as he slid his hands into the pockets of his robe. "What about your job there? Your mission to dismantle it and take down Arvin Sloane?"
The question hung in the air for a long while before Sydney felt strong enough to answer it. She came towards her father, her eyes imploring.
"When I lost Danny," She sighed as fresh tears fell. "Everything went away. All I had was my hatred for SD-6 and Sloane - it was the only thing that pushed me through the pain, that got me up each morning," Sydney paused, her eyes shining. "But over the past year and a half, little by little, piece by piece, everything that was gone has come back," She smiled softly. "I don't get up in the morning for SD-6 anymore, Dad. I get up for Vaughn."
A half-hour later, Sydney left her father's house, her cheek still warm from the feel of his silk robe against her face, the parting hug they'd shared one that would not leave her memory for quite some time.
Meanwhile, at the warehouse, Vaughn was pacing, making long, slow circles within the chain-link fence. Nearby, Weiss was sitting on the bench, watching. At about Vaughn's tenth pass, Weiss held up his hands.
"Dude, seriously, you have to stop," He said, shattering the eerie silence in the vast, empty space. "I don't think it's possible to wear a hole in concrete, but if you keep it up, you might prove me wrong."
Vaughn stopped abruptly, exhaling sharply and running a hand through his hair. "She's late," He said, glancing at his watch. "It's almost four. We're going to lose our advantage if daybreaks before we get a good start."
Weiss stood up as Vaughn faced him, his brow knit with worry. "Mike, she'll be here," Weiss assured him. "She's not going to bail on you, man."
"She was going to see her father," Vaughn put in, his voice laced with concern. "I hope he didn't talk her out of it."
"Can anyone really talk Sydney out of anything?" Weiss scoffed, his mouth curling into a smile. "She's not going to change her mind. I personally don't know what she sees in you, but apparently she's quite smitten." He ducked as Vaughn took a play swipe at him.
"You're just jealous," Vaughn smiled and poked his finger at his friend.
Weiss was incredulous. "What? I'm jealous?" He questioned teasingly. "Oh yeah, cuz there's so much to be jealous of. Hey - maybe I can get myself a girlfriend who dyes her hair with cherry Kool-Aid."
Vaughn couldn't help but chuckle at this, shaking his head. "How many times do I have to tell you? It was a wig!"
"Yeah, well," Weiss laughed, waving Vaughn away with his hand. "She looked like the bride of Frankenberry."
The warehouse echoed with laughter as the two friends cracked themselves up, Vaughn's nerves calming as he allowed himself to relax with his best friend. They both slumped back on the bench, sighing as the remains of laughter slipped away. When it was quiet again, they simply sat there, both of them thinking but neither one saying that it would be a long time before they'd be that way again.
Vaughn checked his watch again, dismayed to find that it was nearly four- thirty. He was about to use his cell phone when footsteps sounded a few feet away and Sydney suddenly appeared in the small circle of light given off by the sparse overhead lights. When their eyes met, time stood still for a moment until Vaughn finally moved to sweep Sydney into his arms. Their lips met and locked in a deep kiss as they forgave each other for the hours they'd spent apart leading up to this life-changing event.
Weiss stood awkwardly, not knowing whether to walk away or stay, to look away or stare at the embrace that seemed it might go on for days.
"Uhm, hey," Weiss finally said when the couple showed no signs of stopping. "We're kind of up against the clock here." He took a couple steps back, finally realizing that he was going to go unnoticed. Dropping back onto the bench, Weiss sighed. "You know," He said to no one in particular. "I think I'll get some business cards made up. They'll say `Eric Weiss: Professional Fifth Wheel'. What do you think?"
Finally parting, Sydney gripped Vaughn's shirt as she caught her breath. "Hi," She said, her eyes shining.
"Hi," Vaughn said back, smiling gently. He searched Sydney's face, then asked the question that had been pulling at his heart all day. "Are you sure?"
Sydney nodded before answering, her voice full of conviction. "I've never been more sure," She said. She turned to Weiss. "What's the plan?"
Within the hour, Vaughn and Sydney had loaded their bags into the back of a rental car Weiss had gotten them under an assumed name. He had come through for them in several other ways, as well, impressing them with his quick work with false documents such as driver's licenses, Social Security cards and passports.
When the time came to say goodbye, neither Sydney nor Vaughn could find the proper words to thank Weiss for putting himself at risk to help them out. He simply waved them on, assuring them he would see them soon. He told Vaughn to keep his cell phone on, to be careful, and to take good care of his "favorite Kool-Aid Kid".
"What did Weiss mean by that?" Sydney asked, watching Weiss's reflection in the car's side mirror as they drove away.
Vaughn just smiled, watching ahead of him as he steered the car onto the main roads, the headlights laying out the path before them. He reached over and ran his hand lovingly through Sydney's ponytail, the soft, chestnut colored strands slipping between his fingers.
"Nothing," Vaughn said finally, sliding his arm around Sydney's shoulder. She scooted as close to him as the seatbelt would allow, a contented warmth spreading through her body.
Sydney let her head fall back against the seat, her eyelids suddenly very heavy. Vaughn turned on the radio, selecting a music station to play quietly as he settled in behind the wheel. The steady rhythm of the song and the moving car started to lull Sydney to sleep, and she pressed her cheek to Vaughn's shoulder, her voice a sleepy murmur as she spoke the words Vaughn had waited a lifetime to hear.
"I love you, Michael."
******
A/N: There is more to come - hope you're enjoying it so far. Thanks again for the kind reviews.
The weather could not have been more perfect. The afternoon sky was powder blue and peppered with peaceful, fluffy clouds as the sun warmed everything it touched, including Will Tippin's smiling face as he reclined in a beach chair, a good book in hand. He had just propped the book open on his stomach and taken a sip of lemonade when a gorgeous brunette appeared, hovering over him with a pleasant smile and a bottle of massage oil.
"Will," She cooed, her voice low and soothing. Will was startled, but he quickly recovered, putting the book aside.
"Hey," He said, putting on his best smile. "I know you from somewhere."
"Will," She said again, her voice imploring as she held up the bottle and wiggled it.
Will's eyes traveled the length of her sun-tanned, bikini-clad body. "I swear I know you from somewhere," He looked up into her eyes and then grinned. "Your voice sounds so familiar."
"Will. C'mon, Will," The woman coaxed, more insistent this time. She bent over and reached out to Will, her hand moist with massage oil. As she began to rub his chest, Will let out a low moan.
"Oh, that's nice," He said, his eyes squeezing closed as his body flooded with contentment. The woman suddenly grabbed Will's arm and shook it, her grip tighter than what he considered comfortable. "Hey!" Will protested.
The woman brought her face close to Will's ear. "Will," She pleaded. "Will, you need to wake up."
Will's eyes sprang open and he suddenly found himself far away from the beach chair, the sunny afternoon and the good book with a glass of lemonade. As Will came back to his senses and realized that he had been asleep and dreaming, he knew that the dark figure next to his bed should not be there. Will drew back against his pillows and did the first thing that came to mind. He screamed.
Sydney Bristow sat quickly on the edge of the bed and leaned in, gently grasping Will's shoulders. "Will," She said soothingly, her mouth curving into a smile. "That's the second time in our friendship that the sight of me has made you scream. If you do it again, you'll give me a complex."
"Oh, my god," Will sputtered, relieved. "I'm sorry, Syd, I was just - I was having this amazing dream," He smiled, enjoying the memory.
Sydney snickered. "I heard you moan. Trust me when I say I don't want to know the details."
Will bunched his pillow up behind him and sat up straight, blinking hard to clear the last of sleep from his eyes. He glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table and raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"Syd, it's two-thirty in the morning," He said. "Why did you wake me up?"
Sydney sighed and reached for one of Will's hands. "I'm leaving, Will," She said simply. "The committee made their decision, and it wasn't good."
Will's eyes were wide. "They're sending him overseas, aren't they?" When Sydney nodded, Will hung his head and sighed. He looked up suddenly, his eyes troubled. "How long will you be gone?"
Sydney swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat. "I don't know," She answered honestly. "It could be a long time."
"Until SD-6 goes down," Will guessed, waiting for Sydney to concur. When she said nothing, he pulled back from her, withdrawing his hand. "What are you saying, Syd? That I might never see you again?" He couldn't help the flash of anger that shone in his eyes.
Seeing this, Sydney jumped in quickly. "Will, I can't promise anything, but if there's a way-"
"This sucks, Sydney," Will interrupted her, his voice strong with truth. "SD-6 has ruined your life in more ways than anyone can count. And now, for the second time, they're ruining mine. And hey, what about Francie, Syd? She doesn't know the truth. All she's gonna know is that her best friend is gone without a trace, and no one seems to know how or why."
Sydney couldn't fight the tears any longer; they filled her eyes, blurring Will's face before finally spilling down her cheeks.
"I know, Will, I know," She said, her voice choked with tears. "This is the hardest decision I've ever made. I don't want to leave you, or Francie, or my dad," She paused as a sob escaped, the next words the hardest to say. "Or my mom."
Will's hard expression melted as his heart broke for her. He leaned forward and quietly pulled Sydney into his arms, embracing her tightly as she cried on his shoulder.
"I didn't mean to upset you, Syd," Will said when they parted, Sydney wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "It's just the impact that this is going to have on the people left behind," His voice trailed off, suddenly aware that he couldn't find words adequate enough for what he was feeling. He let the silence speak for itself.
Sydney stared down at her hands until she was sure her emotions were in check. When she raised her head and met Will's eyes, her voice came in a whisper that was fierce with conviction. "You're right, Will," She said. "SD-6 has ruined my life. But the CIA gave it back when they gave me Michael Vaughn."
Will couldn't help the pang of jealousy that gripped him suddenly like a hand around his heart. His brow furrowed and he lowered his eyes, trying to appear distracted by a hole he had found in the blanket as his fingers clutched the thin brushed cotton material.
"You love him," Will managed, his voice distant.
Sydney knew what Will's feelings were. She knew that he had tried to champion her cause and had tried to be a cheerleader for her and Vaughn, but now, faced with the possibility of never seeing her again, he was torn. She reached out and placed a hand on top of Will's, catching his fingers between her own.
"I do, Will," Sydney replied. "But that doesn't change what you mean to me."
"I wish I meant what Vaughn meant," Will blurted, surprising himself. He met Sydney's eyes again and was instantly sorry. He apologized quickly. "Syd, I didn't want to throw that on the heap of things you've got on your mind right now."
"It's okay," Sydney assured him, squeezing his hand. She smiled, and they sat in silence for a few moments more, both of them unsure exactly how to say goodbye. Finally, Sydney spoke again, pulling her hand from Will's as she reached into the pocket of her black pants. "Can you give this to Francie for me?"
Will accepted the folded sheet of paper and knew what it was by the weight and feel of it. "Do you want me to be there with her while she reads it?"
"She'll need you, Will, when she learns the truth," Sydney nodded, her eyes troubled. "I struggled with that, whether or not to tell her. But I don't want her getting crazy over me being gone, thinking I've been kidnapped or murdered or something," She shook her head. "And the paper-"
"Dissolve it in water when she's finished," Will interjected, reaching over to slip the letter into the top drawer of the bedside table. "I know the drill."
Sydney thanked him, then grew serious, her eyes searching his to make sure he understood. "Will, people may come around asking about me," She told him. "You've got to be certain that you and Francie understand that you have to claim complete ignorance. If they think you know anything, they'll do whatever they can to find out what it is."
Will instinctively reached up and rubbed his jaw, his tongue poking into the space left behind when his tooth was violently extracted. His eyes flashed in anger as the memories invaded his mind. He was helpless to stop them.
"I understand," He said, looking away. "I'll make Francie understand. I'll show her my mouth. You know how afraid she is of the dentist." Will smiled as Sydney chuckled, a smile brightening her tear stained face.
"I'll miss you, Will," Sydney reached out to lightly touch his face, her fingers grazing his cheek. Will smiled back at her, though his blue eyes were sad. He echoed her words, wanting to add that he already missed her, but he held back, knowing this was hard enough on Sydney as it was. She stood up from the bed and Will did, too, freeing himself from a tangle of bed sheets. Sydney and Will embraced, holding each other tight.
Will had a million questions swarming his head, things he wanted to know, plans he wanted to be let in on. There was a part of him that wondered how Sydney could do this, just pick up and go, leave her life behind. But there was another part of him that knew her life here was not the ideal one she had planned before SD-6 and the CIA. Everything that had happened since Danny had been killed was by someone else's design, a life that was scheduled on another person's agenda. Sydney had wanted no part of it, but she had played along, immersing herself into the fray to right old wrongs and give her future a fighting chance. And now she was cashing in, taking back what was hers and leaving before it was too late to get out alive.
Will could find no fault in this. He knew only a small portion of the sacrifice she given, and he could only wonder how she had managed to put up with it for so long. Thinking about it that way, he could see how leaving seemed to be the best, and only, choice to make.
"I understand," Will suddenly said, pulling back from Sydney. They'd been hugging for at least five minutes, holding on to each other with the intensity only a strong friendship could generate. Sydney searched his eyes, and he nodded. "You have a life you want to live, and you have every right," He knew she would not miss what he meant as he continued. "You've already paid your dues."
Sydney's eyes were wet again as she withdrew from Will, her heart aching. "Thank you, Will, for everything," She said. "After Danny, you were strong for me, and I appreciate that. And once you learned the truth, you stuck by me-"
"You saved my life," Will reminded her emphatically. "How could I not stick by you? Syd, you're my best friend." He watched helplessly as Sydney turned away, tears threatening to fall. She went towards the bedroom door where she had left her two suitcases, large black soft side bags filled with as much of her life as it was safe to carry.
Bending to pick up the bags, Sydney tried to force a smile, tried to pretend that this wasn't tearing her apart. She turned back to Will wearing a brave face. "I've gotta go," She said, her voice faltering.
Will came to her side, his own eyes shining. "Syd, one more thing," He said. "About a year ago, before I knew anything, there was one day when you were leaving for what Francie and I thought was yet another business trip. We gave you static about it, telling you to quit your stupid job, and you got angry. You told us that if we really knew what you did for a living, we'd thank you." Will rested his hands on Sydney's shoulders, looking deeply into her eyes. "Syd," He said. "Thank you."
Sydney's face crumpled as she dissolved into tears, dropping her bags to throw her arms around Will's neck. "I will see you again," She breathed, pressing her lips to Will's cheek for a goodbye kiss. He returned it and then helped her with her bags before opening the bedroom door.
They stood and looked at each other for a moment, then Sydney finally said goodbye. "I've arranged for someone to come and box up my things to go into storage," She said, whispering so she wouldn't wake Francie. "But tell Francie she can go through my leftover clothes and take what she wants. And you can raid my CD collection."
"I've told you before, I don't like Yanni," Will couldn't resist a last minute dig, and the two of them laughed quietly, standing in the hallway. Will squeezed Sydney's arm. "Be safe, Syd. I'll see you soon." He smiled, hoping for truth in that statement. Sydney smiled back and left the hallway, heading for the front room and the front door as behind her Will went back into his room and closed the door.
Sydney paused in the living room to take a framed photo of herself with Will and Francie, looking at it sadly for a moment before sliding it into the side pocket of one of her bags. She then picked them up again and was just about to the front door when she heard a soft, sleepy voice behind her.
"Syd?"
Sydney turned to see Francie in the kitchen doorway, wrapped in a robe, a glass of water in her hand.
"Fran," Sydney said, startled. "What are you doing up?"
"I was thirsty," Francie raised the glass of water as her brow furrowed, her face wearing an expression of concern. "What are you doing?" She looked Sydney from head to toe, taking in the sight of her dressed in all black, her long hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. She noticed the bags and sighed. "Oh, Syd, are you going out of town again?"
Sydney's voice caught on the lump in her throat. "Yeah," She finally managed. "Another trip."
Francie shook her head, her countless complaints about Sydney's job not needing repetition. Instead, she walked towards her friend and slid an arm around her, pulling Sydney into a hug.
"Have a safe trip," She said, squeezing Sydney's shoulders. "I'll see you when you get back."
"Yeah," Sydney breathed, holding Francie tight. "I'll see you."
Francie pulled back and smiled at Sydney, seeming not to notice the tears rimming her best friend's eyes. She turned back towards the kitchen, returning to her glass of water. Sydney watched her for a moment before turning her eyes to the rest of the room, her mind memorizing the house and the memories contained within its four walls. Sniffing silently, Sydney picked up her bags once more and walked out, the door closing on her life with a final, quiet click.
Jack Bristow sat in front of his flickering TV set pondering the dichotomy between being too tired to read and yet not tired enough to go to sleep.
He had tossed and turned in bed for nearly two hours, catching mere minutes of sleep at a time before waking with wide eyes and an over-active mind. Sitting up against the headboard, he had reached for a book he kept at the bedside and turned on the lamp. It wasn't long, however, before the letters forming each word on the page melted into nothing but small squares of black ink and he, feeling even more restless than before, was forced to return the book to its place.
Jack had gotten out of bed and wandered the house, tightening the sash on his deep blue silk robe as he checked the windows and doors, a common practice when he couldn't sleep. At the end of this routine, he stopped by the kitchen for a bite of leftover Chinese take-out before continuing on to the living room to sit down in front of the TV.
Jack had never considered himself a TV watcher; he preferred books when choosing visual entertainment. But that night, as sleep proved elusive, he settled into the couch with the remote in one hand and a bottle of Evian in the other. His interest in an infomercial for tub and tile cleaner was just beginning to grow when he heard a key in the front door, followed by the beep of the keypad as his alarm system was disarmed.
Rising from the couch, Jack muted the TV and then turned to walk into the front entry. He was halfway there when he met Sydney in the hallway; she appeared to be startled at the sight of him.
"You look dressed for a burglary," Jack observed, giving his daughter the once over. "Were you hoping I'd be asleep?"
Sydney squared her shoulders, her expression even. "It doesn't matter," She said. "I was going to wake you." The sight of her father brought on a rush of feelings, ones she had pushed away earlier in the day. The memory of being outside her mother's cell and realizing her father had betrayed her forced anger to the front of the line. "We need to talk."
Jack had grown adept over the last year and a half at reading his daughter's eyes; he was surprised to see a flame in them now. He was expecting sadness or despair, but only because he had spent the day convincing himself Sydney couldn't know the one thing that would cause her to get angry in the midst of all that was happening. He was about to find out that he was wrong.
Jack unwittingly opened the floodgates himself. "Speaking of talk, I heard you had a rather heated discussion with Kendall."
"Yes, I did," Sydney said, following her father as he started down the hall, turning lights on as he went. When they reached the large, airy kitchen, Sydney stopped by the center island and crossed her arms over her chest.
Jack opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of mineral water before moving to the cabinet to pull down two drinking glasses. "You think he said something to the committee to influence their decision to send Vaughn to France."
As Jack began to pour the beverages, Sydney narrowed her eyes at him as she fought to stay in control. It was obvious to her that her father was not going to simply own up to what he had done; his decision to treat it lightly only fanned her anger to flame.
"That's what I used to think," Sydney said coolly, her eyes never leaving Jack's face as he set a glass of water in front of her. "But now I know," She went on, her voice rising slightly. "Kendall didn't say anything to the committee. It was you."
The kitchen was silent except for the hum of the refrigerator as Sydney's accusation hung in the air between her and her father. Jack didn't respond at first; he simply looked into his water glass as if something would appear inside it to tell him how to best handle this situation. Nothing did, so he decided to go with his first instinct and react with indignation.
"Do you honestly believe," He began, his voice low and controlled. "That I have the kind of power it would take to influence the Intelligence Oversight Committee?" He met Sydney's eyes, his expression stoic, his mouth a hard line.
Sydney pointed at her father, her finger dotting the air to mark emphasis on her words. "I don't know how you did it, I just know that you did. It's just like before, when you tried to keep me from my mother. Only this time, you're trying to keep me from Vaughn." Sydney paused, breathing deeply to keep her emotions in control. "What hurts me the most about it, though, is that every time I think we've made progress in our relationship, you do something like this. We take three steps forward and you shove us one giant step back."
Jack's grip on the water glass was so tight he was afraid he would shatter it. He set it on the countertop and let several moments of silence pass, collecting his thoughts and allowing Sydney some time to cool down. Her eyes never left his face as she waited for him to speak.
"Sydney," Jack said, his expression softening. "I'm trying to protect you."
The words had barely left his mouth before Sydney pounced upon them. "From what?" She demanded. "A second chance at love? My first chance at a real life?" She threw her hands up, exasperated. "Dad, I don't need to be protected anymore. I need to be happy."
"This won't lead to happiness," Jack interjected, his eyes hard. "Trust me on this."
"Why?" Sydney asked. "Why should I trust you? Because you think you've gone through this? This is completely different from your experience." She turned away from him then, shaking her head as thoughts came hard and fast. When she was able to face him again, her expression was a mix of pity and contempt. "Please don't try to reverse your failures through me. And don't ever try to come between me and my future."
Jack pulled back, wounded by her words. His failure, his marriage to Irina, was a scar he would bear for life, one that was vulnerable. Sydney had zeroed in on it and taken a cheap shot. Jack knew she only wanted to knick him, to make him bleed a little as a penance for what he'd done, but his pride wouldn't allow him to excuse it.
"A future of what?" He demanded loudly. "Hiding? Running for your lives? Living out of suitcases, never knowing where you'll sleep each night?" Jack didn't back down, even when Sydney's wide eyes made it obvious he'd hit a nerve. "Sydney, how is it wrong that I am trying to shelter you from that hardship?"
Fighting with her emotions, Sydney took a step closer to her father, balling her hands into fists as she struggled with the words that would make him understand what this meant to her.
"Did you stop to think, Dad, that this may be a hardship that I want?" She questioned. "This is the first decision in a long time that I alone have the power to make, and I won't let you steal it from me, like you did with so many choices in my life." Sydney couldn't hold back the hot tears that sprang to her eyes. "I don't need you to shelter me, Dad. In fact, I don't need anything from you. I can take care of myself. You've seen to that."
The truth of those words struck Jack like a blow. He turned away, unable to stand to see Sydney cry. He knew, too often, he was the source of those tears. It was the worst pain a father could know, seeing his daughter cry and knowing he was the cause.
Jack picked up his water glass and carried it to the sink. Pouring the liquid down the drain, he spoke, his voice bearing none of its previous strength. "Your clothes, the fact that it's three a.m.- I can gather from this that you're leaving tonight."
Sydney nodded, sniffing quietly. "Yes, we are. I wanted to let you know so that you wouldn't think something had happened to me. But you understand I can't tell you anything, for your own safety. I'm sure you'll be the first person Security Section pulls in for questioning."
"Speaking of SD-6," Jack said, turning back to face his daughter as he slid his hands into the pockets of his robe. "What about your job there? Your mission to dismantle it and take down Arvin Sloane?"
The question hung in the air for a long while before Sydney felt strong enough to answer it. She came towards her father, her eyes imploring.
"When I lost Danny," She sighed as fresh tears fell. "Everything went away. All I had was my hatred for SD-6 and Sloane - it was the only thing that pushed me through the pain, that got me up each morning," Sydney paused, her eyes shining. "But over the past year and a half, little by little, piece by piece, everything that was gone has come back," She smiled softly. "I don't get up in the morning for SD-6 anymore, Dad. I get up for Vaughn."
A half-hour later, Sydney left her father's house, her cheek still warm from the feel of his silk robe against her face, the parting hug they'd shared one that would not leave her memory for quite some time.
Meanwhile, at the warehouse, Vaughn was pacing, making long, slow circles within the chain-link fence. Nearby, Weiss was sitting on the bench, watching. At about Vaughn's tenth pass, Weiss held up his hands.
"Dude, seriously, you have to stop," He said, shattering the eerie silence in the vast, empty space. "I don't think it's possible to wear a hole in concrete, but if you keep it up, you might prove me wrong."
Vaughn stopped abruptly, exhaling sharply and running a hand through his hair. "She's late," He said, glancing at his watch. "It's almost four. We're going to lose our advantage if daybreaks before we get a good start."
Weiss stood up as Vaughn faced him, his brow knit with worry. "Mike, she'll be here," Weiss assured him. "She's not going to bail on you, man."
"She was going to see her father," Vaughn put in, his voice laced with concern. "I hope he didn't talk her out of it."
"Can anyone really talk Sydney out of anything?" Weiss scoffed, his mouth curling into a smile. "She's not going to change her mind. I personally don't know what she sees in you, but apparently she's quite smitten." He ducked as Vaughn took a play swipe at him.
"You're just jealous," Vaughn smiled and poked his finger at his friend.
Weiss was incredulous. "What? I'm jealous?" He questioned teasingly. "Oh yeah, cuz there's so much to be jealous of. Hey - maybe I can get myself a girlfriend who dyes her hair with cherry Kool-Aid."
Vaughn couldn't help but chuckle at this, shaking his head. "How many times do I have to tell you? It was a wig!"
"Yeah, well," Weiss laughed, waving Vaughn away with his hand. "She looked like the bride of Frankenberry."
The warehouse echoed with laughter as the two friends cracked themselves up, Vaughn's nerves calming as he allowed himself to relax with his best friend. They both slumped back on the bench, sighing as the remains of laughter slipped away. When it was quiet again, they simply sat there, both of them thinking but neither one saying that it would be a long time before they'd be that way again.
Vaughn checked his watch again, dismayed to find that it was nearly four- thirty. He was about to use his cell phone when footsteps sounded a few feet away and Sydney suddenly appeared in the small circle of light given off by the sparse overhead lights. When their eyes met, time stood still for a moment until Vaughn finally moved to sweep Sydney into his arms. Their lips met and locked in a deep kiss as they forgave each other for the hours they'd spent apart leading up to this life-changing event.
Weiss stood awkwardly, not knowing whether to walk away or stay, to look away or stare at the embrace that seemed it might go on for days.
"Uhm, hey," Weiss finally said when the couple showed no signs of stopping. "We're kind of up against the clock here." He took a couple steps back, finally realizing that he was going to go unnoticed. Dropping back onto the bench, Weiss sighed. "You know," He said to no one in particular. "I think I'll get some business cards made up. They'll say `Eric Weiss: Professional Fifth Wheel'. What do you think?"
Finally parting, Sydney gripped Vaughn's shirt as she caught her breath. "Hi," She said, her eyes shining.
"Hi," Vaughn said back, smiling gently. He searched Sydney's face, then asked the question that had been pulling at his heart all day. "Are you sure?"
Sydney nodded before answering, her voice full of conviction. "I've never been more sure," She said. She turned to Weiss. "What's the plan?"
Within the hour, Vaughn and Sydney had loaded their bags into the back of a rental car Weiss had gotten them under an assumed name. He had come through for them in several other ways, as well, impressing them with his quick work with false documents such as driver's licenses, Social Security cards and passports.
When the time came to say goodbye, neither Sydney nor Vaughn could find the proper words to thank Weiss for putting himself at risk to help them out. He simply waved them on, assuring them he would see them soon. He told Vaughn to keep his cell phone on, to be careful, and to take good care of his "favorite Kool-Aid Kid".
"What did Weiss mean by that?" Sydney asked, watching Weiss's reflection in the car's side mirror as they drove away.
Vaughn just smiled, watching ahead of him as he steered the car onto the main roads, the headlights laying out the path before them. He reached over and ran his hand lovingly through Sydney's ponytail, the soft, chestnut colored strands slipping between his fingers.
"Nothing," Vaughn said finally, sliding his arm around Sydney's shoulder. She scooted as close to him as the seatbelt would allow, a contented warmth spreading through her body.
Sydney let her head fall back against the seat, her eyelids suddenly very heavy. Vaughn turned on the radio, selecting a music station to play quietly as he settled in behind the wheel. The steady rhythm of the song and the moving car started to lull Sydney to sleep, and she pressed her cheek to Vaughn's shoulder, her voice a sleepy murmur as she spoke the words Vaughn had waited a lifetime to hear.
"I love you, Michael."
******
A/N: There is more to come - hope you're enjoying it so far. Thanks again for the kind reviews.