Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. This belongs to the folks who own Alias. JJ Abrahms and the rest of those lucky folks.

Tears and Time

She cradled his lifeless head in her lap and cried.

She sat on the airplane that was taking her back to L.A. and cried.

She sat in the apartment she shared with Francie and wished he was alive to hold her as she cried.

In the deserted warehouse that had become so much more than that to her-a hope for freedom and the one place she could truly be herself- she wished most of all that her handler, her guardian angel, could be there to hold her as she cried.

She cried because she was glad that it hadn't been her handler that had died. That she had killed.

She often saw Arvin Sloane as the embodiment of everything that had hurt her in her life. He was responsible for her father's recruitment to Sd-6, and the distance between she and her father because of Jack's long absences. She blamed him for her own recruitment, her introduction to and subsequent missions with Noah that had resulted in their relationship and she blamed him for Danny's death.

But now, she knew the truth. She was the one responsible. She had killed Danny because she had believed in her principles more than she had believed in Arvin Sloane's threats and warnings. She had killed her Future.

Noah was her Past. She had known it the moment he had waltzed back into her life such a short time ago. She had changed and grown so much since she'd had a relationship with him, apparently so had he. It had only served to show her how warped and twisted the reality of that part of life had become. It was like watching a snowman in the sun, melting and becoming deformed before her eyes. She had killed Noah, too.

She hadn't consciously known it was him, of course, but with her life it was strangely appropriate. People that got to close to her almost always ended up dead or gone. And, now she had killed her Past, too.

All that left her with was the present, but what did she have, here, now in the present? She had friends, Francie and Will. But it wasn't real, merely an illusion of the life she should be -she wished she was-leading. She supposed she could say she had her father. Her relationship with him now was better than it had ever been, but then again, what did that really say about their relationship?

She walked now. She walked the streets of Los Angeles and she cried, not caring that everyone saw the tears streaming down her face or that she might be under surveillance. Sydney refused to do as she had been taught and compartmentalize her emotions, not about this. Through her haze of tears she saw people moving about the city.

A loud boisterous crowd of boys and girls, fresh from the beach, jostled her as they passed but didn't even touch her. Parents holding the hands of their young son as they walked towards home made her wish for things long gone, but it didn't stir her from her musings. Through it all, one face haunted her mind.

Michael Vaughn.

He was always there with her, but nowhere near at the same time. She had called him her guardian angle and he was. He kept her safe on mission and helped her work to gain her freedom. But he also gave her someone she could talk to and be totally herself with. In truth, he kept her sane in her double life.

Vaughn was there whenever she needed him, as much as he could be, and more than he should be, but they had no chance, no future.

They had a connection, something that linked them past jobs and feelings and friendship. Her mother had killed his father. They had no Past.

Maybe Michael Vaughn could be her Present. Her link to the moment.

Her cell phone rang loudly and she pulled it out of her coat pocket, "Bristow," she said numbly.

"Joey's pizza."

She smiled as she hung up, wincing as she brushed the tears from her face. The carefully covered bruises on face were still painful to the touch, but certainly the least of her injuries. But maybe now she wouldn't have to compartmentalize her feelings. The feelings she had for Danny and in lesser magnitude, for Noah were slowly being replaced with something different, greater and bigger. The grief she was feeling was being replaced by hope.

The Past was dead and for now the Future was as well. Maybe one day she could even have a future again, but for today, the Present and Michael Vaughn were enough.

Now Please, please leave a review and let me know what you think of this little ficlet.