"Don't you want me anymore, Michael?"
"I thought you wanted me, Vaughn."
"Who is going to be, Michael? Me or Rita?"
"We're destined to be together, Vaughn."
"Michael."
"Vaughn."
"It's me Alice."
"C'mon, it's Sydney."
Vaughn awoke a little after midnight with a gasp. He saw both of them standing before him in a white room, both dressed in wedding gowns with their hands stretched out to him. They both wanted him and he couldn't choose, even in his dreams. He felt so guilty about being with Alice and leading Sydney on or following her lead or whatever the hell was going on with him. If she had not beckoned to go to the hotel or her father had barged in, who knows how far it would have gone. He wanted her, sure, but then what would have happened.
He sat up in bed and cradled his head in his hands. He couldn't make a decision and didn't want to have to make one. His decision was already made. He had a date with Destiny. The darkness had swallowed the room and he could barely make out the bed across from the simple four wall room. His green eyes attempted to focused or at the very least, find her black bag. Two bottles and in three minutes, all of this would over.
He sighed softly. Alice. How would she find out about his death? She was probably just be forgotten in the madness of his funeral. She would never know about the star that would be put up in the CIA main building or the funeral with the agents standing near his coffin. His demise was just a few swallows of alcohol and pills away. Three minutes would be all it would take.
His legs stretched out of bed and his feet gripped the matted green carpeting. This safe-house was older than time itself. He fumbled around a little until he stumbled onto the black bag. Silently, he cursed his clumsy actions and prayed that Sydney would stay asleep. He sighed quickly and made his way towards the bathroom door, that was located next to Sydney's bed. He pushed the door open, taking almost a curious state of mind that the light was on. It didn't matter. Three minutes left on this earth.
His eyes adjusted to the yellow light and continued to push open the door. He reached down into the bag and pulled out the bottles of pills and Bourbon, rich in its brown color. They were both heavy in his hands and Bourbon bottle was cold and reassuring.
His mother drank Bourbon after his father's death, sitting high in her overstuff floral chair, looking out into their Fleury garden. "Tu connais, Michel, je deteste le CIA. Ils a pris ton pere et je serai damnne si tu serai un agent aussi." You know, Michael, I hate the CIA. They took your father and I will be damned if you are an agent also. He laughed ruefully at his mother's cruel way of predicating the future with her bottle. His mouth began to water at the thought of the bitter drink flooding his mouth and sliding like fire down his throat. There was a glass in there to pour his death into, he was sure of it.
He didn't have to worry about friends' or family's reaction. He had already seen it so many times that it was no shock to him that his mother would be devastated, taking frequent trips across Europe. His friends would be depressed but they would soon get over it. They would feel the emptiness of his desk and chair but as soon as some new recruit out of Langley would come, his memory would become faded, never forgotten but just more ghost like.
He would be with his father in three minutes and a few sleeping pills and about four glass of Bourbon. He laughed rather ruefully. *You proud of me now, Dad? Killing myself to get out of the CIA? Real, real noble.*
He could never expect to see the sight that lay before him. His eyes grew wide however, as he saw Sydney standing there, with the gun to her temple. "Sydney!" He gasped, "What the hell are you doing?" His hand slipped and he at least dropped the bag, that landed on the gray floor with a resounding THUNK. He managed to keep the bottles in his hands as the panic began to rise up again.
Her eyes grew so wide and the familiar panic showed on her face. She cradled the gun in her hands and whipped around. "Vaughn!"
"What the hell are you doing?" He repeated, almost shouting not bothering to think about waking the two other people in the safe house.
fLaShBaCk
"This is home for you until we can think of something a bit more permanent." Jack pushed open the door to a small house outside of Madrid. It was skillfully hidden among beautiful bushes and trees in the small Spanish town. It was quiet and peaceful but the house itself was tiny and uncomfortable. Sydney and Vaughn silently filed inside, becoming aware of their surroundings.
Their eyes were focused on the ground, feeling like children being pushed off to nursery school for the first time. The front door opened to a living room with a couch, TV, and fireplace with a kitchen to the back and two sets of doors on either side leading to two bedroom and off of the master room, the one bath. Everything was worn and old. On the dilapidated couch, were two old friends talking about nonsense.
"Francie! Will!" Sydney cried and ran to them, immediately starting to get choked up and kneeling before them. The carpet was hard beneath her knees but all she cared about was holding her friends in her arms. "Oh my G-d! You're okay!" She kissed both of them on the cheek and buried her head between the two them. Sobs escaped her mouth as she tried to hold on to them as though they would disappear of the face of the earth tomorrow. "I didn't know if you would be okay! I thought that maybe..maybe." She sobbed harder than ever before. Everything was finally hitting her and so unreasonable to death with.
Vaughn watched helpless from the door as the three old friends helpless sobbed onto each other and never let go of each other.
"Let them be for a moment." Jack replied and motioned for Vaughn to go to the kitchen. "Why don't you eat something or do something with yourself?" It was his best, if not shabby, attempt to be a father figure. "They'll be like that for a while. Especially the girls." He turned on his heels and said, with his back to the house, "I'm going back to the warehouse. An agent will be back to check on your status later. Good- night." His words fell on deaf ears as Vaughn found the empty bedroom and sat down.
"You don't know how I've been worried about you!" Sydney settled between Will and Francie and cradled them in her arms. "Francie, how are you?"
"I'm doing okay. Your Dr. Barnett said I'm gonna be fine. Will too." She had a sober look on her face and held Sydney's face in her now aged hands. "We've been worried sick." Sydney put her hands on top of Francie's and continued to sob. Will wrapped his arms around Sydney's waist and pulled her back to lay across his chest. She obeyed and loved the feeling of her friends' beings.
"Well, I'm here now." Sydney replied, wiping the tears from her eyes vainly.
Vaughn stood there, watching her. He tried to soak in her beautiful and memorize every feature of her. They say you can't take anything with you but he wanted to take the memory of her with him. It he willed it, maybe it would happen. If there was a G-d, he would let him watch over Sydney and really be her guardian angel.
EnD fLaShBaCk
"What the hell are you doing?" Vaughn repeated, stepping slowly towards Sydney with his hands up defensively.
"Nothing." She lied.
"Like hell nothing. You have a gun to your head! Sydney, were you going to kill yourself? Whoa! Don't answer that. Drop the gun. Sydney, drop the gun." She wouldn't obey. "Damn it, Sydney, drop the gun!"
"I won't. This needs to end now. This life. I can't take it anymore and it's going to end right now." She turned back towards the mirror and closed her eyes. Her answer was smug but she needed to get this over with. Oh, bad choice of words. She needed to end it.
"Sydney! Drop the gun!" He shouted at her, ignoring the fact that he had awoken the two other inhabitants of the house. "Drop the damn gun!"
"No." She inhaled deeply and went to squeeze the trigger when she felt two strong hands, one on her arm holding the gun, the other around her waist. He brought her arm to her side, shaking violently. He easily pried the gun from her hand and threw it behind him. It landed and made a clanging noise against the aged ceramic tiles. He was suddenly so intent on calming her, he didn't even hear the front door open or the person enter.
Slowly, he turned her around to face him, holding her face in his hands. It was only then that she noticed the broken bottle of Bourbon and the open bottles of sleeping pills scattered among the alcohol. The glass sparkled in the harsh lighting and the Bourbon made it sparkle that much more. "What the hell were you going to do?"
"Nothing." He replied, holding her to his body and attempted to comfort her.
She pulled away and looked him angrily. "You were going to do the same thing I was. You were going to-"
"End the cycle." He finished, reading her like a book and began to sit down next to the bathtub. She followed suit and sat next to him, watching the drink spread slowly over the tiles.
"Pills and Bourbon?"
"Yeah." A sheepish reply came quickly. "A gun with a silencer?"
"Yeah." Her sheepish reply came slowly.
"What are we going to do?" He started to sink to the ground and they sat there, the agent and the handler, wrapped up in each other.
"I thought," she finally spoke, "I would be saving you." Her words were broken with sobs. She didn't even realize she had started to cry. It was second nature to her now. She was tired of tucking everything away that she couldn't do it anymore.
What felt like hours had past since he found her and now, they laid against the bathtub, trying to sooth each and both their faces streaked with fallen tears.
"And I was trying to save you."
"What are you we going to do with us?" She almost laughed. Finally she straightened up and looked at him. "Are we destined to be like them?"
Vaughn swallowed hard and refused to look at her for a moment. "I don't know."
"What do you really think?" She pressed him, knowing how she felt about the whole situation but maybe, Vaughn could snap her out of this or something.
"Maybe.if we will it not to happen..it won't happen. We'll take control of our destiny. What do you think?"
"We'll see." Said a voice at the door causing the two agents' heads to spin towards the door and their eyes to grow wide. Sydney held her breath and tried to jump to feet but it was too late. Vaughn's heart began to pound loudly in his chest and he barely bent his knees before it was too late. Two shots rang out through the house and their worlds went black.
"I thought you wanted me, Vaughn."
"Who is going to be, Michael? Me or Rita?"
"We're destined to be together, Vaughn."
"Michael."
"Vaughn."
"It's me Alice."
"C'mon, it's Sydney."
Vaughn awoke a little after midnight with a gasp. He saw both of them standing before him in a white room, both dressed in wedding gowns with their hands stretched out to him. They both wanted him and he couldn't choose, even in his dreams. He felt so guilty about being with Alice and leading Sydney on or following her lead or whatever the hell was going on with him. If she had not beckoned to go to the hotel or her father had barged in, who knows how far it would have gone. He wanted her, sure, but then what would have happened.
He sat up in bed and cradled his head in his hands. He couldn't make a decision and didn't want to have to make one. His decision was already made. He had a date with Destiny. The darkness had swallowed the room and he could barely make out the bed across from the simple four wall room. His green eyes attempted to focused or at the very least, find her black bag. Two bottles and in three minutes, all of this would over.
He sighed softly. Alice. How would she find out about his death? She was probably just be forgotten in the madness of his funeral. She would never know about the star that would be put up in the CIA main building or the funeral with the agents standing near his coffin. His demise was just a few swallows of alcohol and pills away. Three minutes would be all it would take.
His legs stretched out of bed and his feet gripped the matted green carpeting. This safe-house was older than time itself. He fumbled around a little until he stumbled onto the black bag. Silently, he cursed his clumsy actions and prayed that Sydney would stay asleep. He sighed quickly and made his way towards the bathroom door, that was located next to Sydney's bed. He pushed the door open, taking almost a curious state of mind that the light was on. It didn't matter. Three minutes left on this earth.
His eyes adjusted to the yellow light and continued to push open the door. He reached down into the bag and pulled out the bottles of pills and Bourbon, rich in its brown color. They were both heavy in his hands and Bourbon bottle was cold and reassuring.
His mother drank Bourbon after his father's death, sitting high in her overstuff floral chair, looking out into their Fleury garden. "Tu connais, Michel, je deteste le CIA. Ils a pris ton pere et je serai damnne si tu serai un agent aussi." You know, Michael, I hate the CIA. They took your father and I will be damned if you are an agent also. He laughed ruefully at his mother's cruel way of predicating the future with her bottle. His mouth began to water at the thought of the bitter drink flooding his mouth and sliding like fire down his throat. There was a glass in there to pour his death into, he was sure of it.
He didn't have to worry about friends' or family's reaction. He had already seen it so many times that it was no shock to him that his mother would be devastated, taking frequent trips across Europe. His friends would be depressed but they would soon get over it. They would feel the emptiness of his desk and chair but as soon as some new recruit out of Langley would come, his memory would become faded, never forgotten but just more ghost like.
He would be with his father in three minutes and a few sleeping pills and about four glass of Bourbon. He laughed rather ruefully. *You proud of me now, Dad? Killing myself to get out of the CIA? Real, real noble.*
He could never expect to see the sight that lay before him. His eyes grew wide however, as he saw Sydney standing there, with the gun to her temple. "Sydney!" He gasped, "What the hell are you doing?" His hand slipped and he at least dropped the bag, that landed on the gray floor with a resounding THUNK. He managed to keep the bottles in his hands as the panic began to rise up again.
Her eyes grew so wide and the familiar panic showed on her face. She cradled the gun in her hands and whipped around. "Vaughn!"
"What the hell are you doing?" He repeated, almost shouting not bothering to think about waking the two other people in the safe house.
fLaShBaCk
"This is home for you until we can think of something a bit more permanent." Jack pushed open the door to a small house outside of Madrid. It was skillfully hidden among beautiful bushes and trees in the small Spanish town. It was quiet and peaceful but the house itself was tiny and uncomfortable. Sydney and Vaughn silently filed inside, becoming aware of their surroundings.
Their eyes were focused on the ground, feeling like children being pushed off to nursery school for the first time. The front door opened to a living room with a couch, TV, and fireplace with a kitchen to the back and two sets of doors on either side leading to two bedroom and off of the master room, the one bath. Everything was worn and old. On the dilapidated couch, were two old friends talking about nonsense.
"Francie! Will!" Sydney cried and ran to them, immediately starting to get choked up and kneeling before them. The carpet was hard beneath her knees but all she cared about was holding her friends in her arms. "Oh my G-d! You're okay!" She kissed both of them on the cheek and buried her head between the two them. Sobs escaped her mouth as she tried to hold on to them as though they would disappear of the face of the earth tomorrow. "I didn't know if you would be okay! I thought that maybe..maybe." She sobbed harder than ever before. Everything was finally hitting her and so unreasonable to death with.
Vaughn watched helpless from the door as the three old friends helpless sobbed onto each other and never let go of each other.
"Let them be for a moment." Jack replied and motioned for Vaughn to go to the kitchen. "Why don't you eat something or do something with yourself?" It was his best, if not shabby, attempt to be a father figure. "They'll be like that for a while. Especially the girls." He turned on his heels and said, with his back to the house, "I'm going back to the warehouse. An agent will be back to check on your status later. Good- night." His words fell on deaf ears as Vaughn found the empty bedroom and sat down.
"You don't know how I've been worried about you!" Sydney settled between Will and Francie and cradled them in her arms. "Francie, how are you?"
"I'm doing okay. Your Dr. Barnett said I'm gonna be fine. Will too." She had a sober look on her face and held Sydney's face in her now aged hands. "We've been worried sick." Sydney put her hands on top of Francie's and continued to sob. Will wrapped his arms around Sydney's waist and pulled her back to lay across his chest. She obeyed and loved the feeling of her friends' beings.
"Well, I'm here now." Sydney replied, wiping the tears from her eyes vainly.
Vaughn stood there, watching her. He tried to soak in her beautiful and memorize every feature of her. They say you can't take anything with you but he wanted to take the memory of her with him. It he willed it, maybe it would happen. If there was a G-d, he would let him watch over Sydney and really be her guardian angel.
EnD fLaShBaCk
"What the hell are you doing?" Vaughn repeated, stepping slowly towards Sydney with his hands up defensively.
"Nothing." She lied.
"Like hell nothing. You have a gun to your head! Sydney, were you going to kill yourself? Whoa! Don't answer that. Drop the gun. Sydney, drop the gun." She wouldn't obey. "Damn it, Sydney, drop the gun!"
"I won't. This needs to end now. This life. I can't take it anymore and it's going to end right now." She turned back towards the mirror and closed her eyes. Her answer was smug but she needed to get this over with. Oh, bad choice of words. She needed to end it.
"Sydney! Drop the gun!" He shouted at her, ignoring the fact that he had awoken the two other inhabitants of the house. "Drop the damn gun!"
"No." She inhaled deeply and went to squeeze the trigger when she felt two strong hands, one on her arm holding the gun, the other around her waist. He brought her arm to her side, shaking violently. He easily pried the gun from her hand and threw it behind him. It landed and made a clanging noise against the aged ceramic tiles. He was suddenly so intent on calming her, he didn't even hear the front door open or the person enter.
Slowly, he turned her around to face him, holding her face in his hands. It was only then that she noticed the broken bottle of Bourbon and the open bottles of sleeping pills scattered among the alcohol. The glass sparkled in the harsh lighting and the Bourbon made it sparkle that much more. "What the hell were you going to do?"
"Nothing." He replied, holding her to his body and attempted to comfort her.
She pulled away and looked him angrily. "You were going to do the same thing I was. You were going to-"
"End the cycle." He finished, reading her like a book and began to sit down next to the bathtub. She followed suit and sat next to him, watching the drink spread slowly over the tiles.
"Pills and Bourbon?"
"Yeah." A sheepish reply came quickly. "A gun with a silencer?"
"Yeah." Her sheepish reply came slowly.
"What are we going to do?" He started to sink to the ground and they sat there, the agent and the handler, wrapped up in each other.
"I thought," she finally spoke, "I would be saving you." Her words were broken with sobs. She didn't even realize she had started to cry. It was second nature to her now. She was tired of tucking everything away that she couldn't do it anymore.
What felt like hours had past since he found her and now, they laid against the bathtub, trying to sooth each and both their faces streaked with fallen tears.
"And I was trying to save you."
"What are you we going to do with us?" She almost laughed. Finally she straightened up and looked at him. "Are we destined to be like them?"
Vaughn swallowed hard and refused to look at her for a moment. "I don't know."
"What do you really think?" She pressed him, knowing how she felt about the whole situation but maybe, Vaughn could snap her out of this or something.
"Maybe.if we will it not to happen..it won't happen. We'll take control of our destiny. What do you think?"
"We'll see." Said a voice at the door causing the two agents' heads to spin towards the door and their eyes to grow wide. Sydney held her breath and tried to jump to feet but it was too late. Vaughn's heart began to pound loudly in his chest and he barely bent his knees before it was too late. Two shots rang out through the house and their worlds went black.