A/N: I'm back! I flew in Friday night, and didn't get home until 1 AM. I
hurried up and got this chapter written. I hope it's good enough. I'm
slightly sleep deprived, but I couldn't leave my readers hanging any
longer. Enjoy!
This is dedicated to Sarah. If it weren't for you, this story wouldn't exist. And I won't forget the butter. ;)
*~*~*~*
"Back so soon? I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away." Will chuckled at his joke, expecting at least a smile from his friend. Instead he received a cold stare.
"No one told you?"
"Told me what?"
"Sydney's back. She's alive."
Will sat down - hard. He should have known news of his absent best friend would be the only thing to bring Vaughn back. It was unbelievable. Sydney was alive.
"Is she okay? Where has she been? What did they do with her?"
The questions continued to pour from Will's mouth; his journalist training the only thing that kept him asking coherent questions.
"The doctor said she seems fine. He ran a few tests. It's her. She's healthy. The only problem is she doesn't remember the last two years. She remembers the fight with Doren, but nothing after. It's as if no time has passed for her. She was just taken into a conference room: Kendall wants her statement written down."
"She's really here?" Will asked, still not quite ready to believe it was really true. Too many of his hopes from the CIA's leads had been crushed in the past.
Nodding, Vaughn answered. "I went to retrieve her from Hong Kong. I saw her with my own eyes. She's real."
Will saw in Vaughn's eyes the same complete disbelief that their dreams had come true; that her being all right was just too good to be true.
"So what happens now?"
Vaughn knew Will wasn't simply questioning about Sydney, but about the situation Vaughn suddenly found himself in as well.
"I have no idea."
Vaughn sighed, rubbing his hand over his face before running it through his hair.
"No idea."
* * * *
Sydney Bristow sat down heavily at the conference table.
This scene was all too familiar for her. Someone she loved had been killed, and it was time to write out the story, as she knew it.
The only difference was, Vaughn never walked in.
She kept imagining he would come bursting through the door, wake her from her nightmare, and take her away to Santa Barbara. But he never did.
When she had finished writing her statement, it wasn't quite as long as last time, she stood and headed for the door.
Stepping into the glow of the overhead lights, Sydney looked around her. The first thing she saw was Vaughn, standing next to Will.
"Will!" Sydney ran toward her friend, enveloping him in a long, desperate hug. She was so grateful to see him alive. The last time she had seen him, he had been near dead in her bathtub.
"You're alive! When I saw you lying in that tub, all I could think was Danny. and how I'd found him, dead, in the tub. You're alive, and well!"
Will returned the hug. They clung to each other, afraid that the other couldn't physically be there, that this was just a quick reprieve from above.
"So are you," Will whispered into her ear. "It's so good to see you, even if you do look a little, I don't know, stringy." He fingered a piece of slightly greasy hair that had fallen from her ponytail.
Sydney pulled away and gave him a light slap. At his wounded expression, she gave an earsplitting smile, fully showing her dimples. Will soon followed. They once again threw themselves into a tight hug.
Pulling away, Sydney asked, "How have you been? What happened?"
"I don't really remember, but Vaughn came in sometime after the fight. He searched the house for you, but found me instead. I'd lost so much blood. No one thought I'd make it through. Francie's double had stabbed me in the stomach. I fell into a coma from the loss of blood. I spent weeks in the hospital. I finally came out of the coma, and after another week, they let me go home."
"Oh Will, I'm so sorry." Sydney was on the verge of tears.
"I did get that promotion, though."
"The one for the senior analyst position?"
"That one."
"Congratulations!" Another hug ensued. They were making a scene in the ops center, but neither could bring themselves to care.
A throat was cleared near them and they parted to determine the source. Vaughn was nowhere to be seen, he had slipped away. In his place stood none other than Director Kendall.
"Bristow, we need to get you into regression therapy immediately. I don't care how tired you are, what friends you want to see, or even if you have to use the ladies room. Now."
Sydney and Will gave each other apologetic, yet resigned glances.
After another quick hug, Sydney turned and followed Kendall down a long corridor.
* * * *
Across the bullpen, Michael Vaughn stood leaning against the wall. He had watched the exchange between the two friends, wishing he were the one receiving all the hugs. ~ She tried ~ he reminded himself.
He watched Kendall approach, Sydney say her goodbyes to Will, and the turn she made to follow Kendall down a branching hallway.
Green eyes followed her figure until she was no longer visible.
"Mr. Vaughn."
Vaughn looked up - into the steely eyes of Jack Bristow.
"What are you doing here?"
"I was called in to extract Sydney."
"I know that, why are you still here?"
"I work here."
"No, you don't Mr. Vaughn. You haven't for several months. I suggest you leave." With that, he turned on his heel, and walked away.
Jack's words reminded him of a simple fact that had slipped his mind since he had heard Sydney was alive.
He was a civilian.
He had no right to be where he was.
It had been so natural, like breathing. It hadn't fazed him to be referred to as "Agent Vaughn". He hadn't even realized the desk he had been at wasn't his.
Most importantly, he still answered to the name Michael Vaughn.
* * * *
"You know the risks Agent Bristow?"
"Yes. I don't have much of a choice."
Kerr smiled slightly before beginning.
"Now, I'm going to count back from three. When I get to one, I want you to tell me where you are. 3, 2, 1."
Sydney opened her eyes to find herself looking into a dim room. Moans and screams could be heard occasionally. They drifted from the other side of a partition, a fluorescent glow shown from the other side.
Moving tentatively forward, Sydney reached the source of the light and noise. She looked around the obstruction, and gasped.
"What do you see Sydney?"
"I'm lying on a table surrounded by people. They look like doctors, but they aren't wearing lab coats or scrubs."
Sydney looked again at the scene in front of her. She leaned forward to listen. She could here herself mumbling, obviously incoherent through whatever pain she was being put through.
Had she been tortured? That wasn't possible. They were doing nothing to her, she was simply hooked to several machines, all reading vitals.
Tears began to gather in Sydney's eyes as she looked on. Something was obviously wrong. Unconsciously, her hand went to stroke the newly discovered scar on her abdomen.
Kerr noticed. "What are you seeing?"
Sydney was too engrossed to answer. She had just heard herself, lying on the table, saying the only coherent words since she had entered. 'Vaughn. Michael. Where are you? You need to be here.' No more could be understood as she slipped back into mumbling and muttering.
'There's something wrong. The baby's coming breech and the umbilical cord has wrapped itself around the neck. We need to get it out of there. Now.'
"I think I'm in labor, but that can't be. I wasn't pregnant."
Kerr made note of this, and encouraged Sydney to continue.
Sydney moved to the head of the table and looked down at her own sweat- streaked face.
She watched in morbid fascination as the doctors administered anesthesia. An Asian man, who appeared to be in charge, took a knife and made the incision in the same place she now carried her scar.
It was unbearable to watch. Sydney turned her head, not quite ready to confirm that they were removing her child.
Her child. Sydney knew, with the certainty that comes only from the heart, that the child was hers, and Vaughn's.
Tears had long been flowing from her red and swollen eyes.
She looked up again when she heard the baby cry. The newborn looked healthy enough: red, tiny, and screaming, but healthy.
Sydney wanted to reach out and take the infant. Motherly instincts she thought couldn't exist were stirred in her. It was her child, and she wanted desperately to hold it.
In the hypnotherapy chair, Sydney reached out her arms.
"What are you reaching for Sydney?"
"My baby, I want my baby," Sydney sobbed.
Kerr looked stricken, but continued to make notes.
Sydney spun her head around when she heard a door open. In walked none other than Arvin Sloane.
'The baby's a healthy girl sir.'
'Good. I'll take it. Finish up here. When she comes out of it, tell her the child died, and that you did all you could.'
With his trademark creepy smile, he took the proffered child, turned, and headed out the door.
*~*~*~*
A/N: I know, I'm taking my own sweet time getting the details out, but they'll come. No worries. I've got a few taken care of, or at least hinted at, in this chapter. Let me know what you thought. It'll make my day!
Everything Alias is not mine. You can go ahead and sue, but all I've got in my pocket right now is $.25 and a ticket stub from the Matrix Reloaded. Seriously, do you know how expensive food in D.C. is?
This is dedicated to Sarah. If it weren't for you, this story wouldn't exist. And I won't forget the butter. ;)
*~*~*~*
"Back so soon? I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away." Will chuckled at his joke, expecting at least a smile from his friend. Instead he received a cold stare.
"No one told you?"
"Told me what?"
"Sydney's back. She's alive."
Will sat down - hard. He should have known news of his absent best friend would be the only thing to bring Vaughn back. It was unbelievable. Sydney was alive.
"Is she okay? Where has she been? What did they do with her?"
The questions continued to pour from Will's mouth; his journalist training the only thing that kept him asking coherent questions.
"The doctor said she seems fine. He ran a few tests. It's her. She's healthy. The only problem is she doesn't remember the last two years. She remembers the fight with Doren, but nothing after. It's as if no time has passed for her. She was just taken into a conference room: Kendall wants her statement written down."
"She's really here?" Will asked, still not quite ready to believe it was really true. Too many of his hopes from the CIA's leads had been crushed in the past.
Nodding, Vaughn answered. "I went to retrieve her from Hong Kong. I saw her with my own eyes. She's real."
Will saw in Vaughn's eyes the same complete disbelief that their dreams had come true; that her being all right was just too good to be true.
"So what happens now?"
Vaughn knew Will wasn't simply questioning about Sydney, but about the situation Vaughn suddenly found himself in as well.
"I have no idea."
Vaughn sighed, rubbing his hand over his face before running it through his hair.
"No idea."
* * * *
Sydney Bristow sat down heavily at the conference table.
This scene was all too familiar for her. Someone she loved had been killed, and it was time to write out the story, as she knew it.
The only difference was, Vaughn never walked in.
She kept imagining he would come bursting through the door, wake her from her nightmare, and take her away to Santa Barbara. But he never did.
When she had finished writing her statement, it wasn't quite as long as last time, she stood and headed for the door.
Stepping into the glow of the overhead lights, Sydney looked around her. The first thing she saw was Vaughn, standing next to Will.
"Will!" Sydney ran toward her friend, enveloping him in a long, desperate hug. She was so grateful to see him alive. The last time she had seen him, he had been near dead in her bathtub.
"You're alive! When I saw you lying in that tub, all I could think was Danny. and how I'd found him, dead, in the tub. You're alive, and well!"
Will returned the hug. They clung to each other, afraid that the other couldn't physically be there, that this was just a quick reprieve from above.
"So are you," Will whispered into her ear. "It's so good to see you, even if you do look a little, I don't know, stringy." He fingered a piece of slightly greasy hair that had fallen from her ponytail.
Sydney pulled away and gave him a light slap. At his wounded expression, she gave an earsplitting smile, fully showing her dimples. Will soon followed. They once again threw themselves into a tight hug.
Pulling away, Sydney asked, "How have you been? What happened?"
"I don't really remember, but Vaughn came in sometime after the fight. He searched the house for you, but found me instead. I'd lost so much blood. No one thought I'd make it through. Francie's double had stabbed me in the stomach. I fell into a coma from the loss of blood. I spent weeks in the hospital. I finally came out of the coma, and after another week, they let me go home."
"Oh Will, I'm so sorry." Sydney was on the verge of tears.
"I did get that promotion, though."
"The one for the senior analyst position?"
"That one."
"Congratulations!" Another hug ensued. They were making a scene in the ops center, but neither could bring themselves to care.
A throat was cleared near them and they parted to determine the source. Vaughn was nowhere to be seen, he had slipped away. In his place stood none other than Director Kendall.
"Bristow, we need to get you into regression therapy immediately. I don't care how tired you are, what friends you want to see, or even if you have to use the ladies room. Now."
Sydney and Will gave each other apologetic, yet resigned glances.
After another quick hug, Sydney turned and followed Kendall down a long corridor.
* * * *
Across the bullpen, Michael Vaughn stood leaning against the wall. He had watched the exchange between the two friends, wishing he were the one receiving all the hugs. ~ She tried ~ he reminded himself.
He watched Kendall approach, Sydney say her goodbyes to Will, and the turn she made to follow Kendall down a branching hallway.
Green eyes followed her figure until she was no longer visible.
"Mr. Vaughn."
Vaughn looked up - into the steely eyes of Jack Bristow.
"What are you doing here?"
"I was called in to extract Sydney."
"I know that, why are you still here?"
"I work here."
"No, you don't Mr. Vaughn. You haven't for several months. I suggest you leave." With that, he turned on his heel, and walked away.
Jack's words reminded him of a simple fact that had slipped his mind since he had heard Sydney was alive.
He was a civilian.
He had no right to be where he was.
It had been so natural, like breathing. It hadn't fazed him to be referred to as "Agent Vaughn". He hadn't even realized the desk he had been at wasn't his.
Most importantly, he still answered to the name Michael Vaughn.
* * * *
"You know the risks Agent Bristow?"
"Yes. I don't have much of a choice."
Kerr smiled slightly before beginning.
"Now, I'm going to count back from three. When I get to one, I want you to tell me where you are. 3, 2, 1."
Sydney opened her eyes to find herself looking into a dim room. Moans and screams could be heard occasionally. They drifted from the other side of a partition, a fluorescent glow shown from the other side.
Moving tentatively forward, Sydney reached the source of the light and noise. She looked around the obstruction, and gasped.
"What do you see Sydney?"
"I'm lying on a table surrounded by people. They look like doctors, but they aren't wearing lab coats or scrubs."
Sydney looked again at the scene in front of her. She leaned forward to listen. She could here herself mumbling, obviously incoherent through whatever pain she was being put through.
Had she been tortured? That wasn't possible. They were doing nothing to her, she was simply hooked to several machines, all reading vitals.
Tears began to gather in Sydney's eyes as she looked on. Something was obviously wrong. Unconsciously, her hand went to stroke the newly discovered scar on her abdomen.
Kerr noticed. "What are you seeing?"
Sydney was too engrossed to answer. She had just heard herself, lying on the table, saying the only coherent words since she had entered. 'Vaughn. Michael. Where are you? You need to be here.' No more could be understood as she slipped back into mumbling and muttering.
'There's something wrong. The baby's coming breech and the umbilical cord has wrapped itself around the neck. We need to get it out of there. Now.'
"I think I'm in labor, but that can't be. I wasn't pregnant."
Kerr made note of this, and encouraged Sydney to continue.
Sydney moved to the head of the table and looked down at her own sweat- streaked face.
She watched in morbid fascination as the doctors administered anesthesia. An Asian man, who appeared to be in charge, took a knife and made the incision in the same place she now carried her scar.
It was unbearable to watch. Sydney turned her head, not quite ready to confirm that they were removing her child.
Her child. Sydney knew, with the certainty that comes only from the heart, that the child was hers, and Vaughn's.
Tears had long been flowing from her red and swollen eyes.
She looked up again when she heard the baby cry. The newborn looked healthy enough: red, tiny, and screaming, but healthy.
Sydney wanted to reach out and take the infant. Motherly instincts she thought couldn't exist were stirred in her. It was her child, and she wanted desperately to hold it.
In the hypnotherapy chair, Sydney reached out her arms.
"What are you reaching for Sydney?"
"My baby, I want my baby," Sydney sobbed.
Kerr looked stricken, but continued to make notes.
Sydney spun her head around when she heard a door open. In walked none other than Arvin Sloane.
'The baby's a healthy girl sir.'
'Good. I'll take it. Finish up here. When she comes out of it, tell her the child died, and that you did all you could.'
With his trademark creepy smile, he took the proffered child, turned, and headed out the door.
*~*~*~*
A/N: I know, I'm taking my own sweet time getting the details out, but they'll come. No worries. I've got a few taken care of, or at least hinted at, in this chapter. Let me know what you thought. It'll make my day!
Everything Alias is not mine. You can go ahead and sue, but all I've got in my pocket right now is $.25 and a ticket stub from the Matrix Reloaded. Seriously, do you know how expensive food in D.C. is?