What if Vaughn had been the one who woke up to find he had missed two years?
Sark held Allison's head on his lap, and wept, maybe the first time in his life; at least that he could remember. Sydney laid by a window that was remarkably not broken. Everything else in the apartment that was composed of glass had been shattered; the pieces were strewn all over the floor. He wasn't sure what the next step was...that had never happened before. Allison was dead, he knew that, though he was not sure how long it would be until he accepted it. He carefully laid her head to rest on the ground, first wiping away any glass that was beneath her body. He looked up to where Sydney laid and quickly moved to her, checking her wrist for a pulse. When he detected a beat, he sighed in relief, though he wasn't sure why. Obviously Sydney had killed Allison; the first woman he had ever loved. However, he could not fault Sydney for murdering her; it had obviously been in self-defense. He cradled Sydney's head in his arms, astounded at her beauty even in deep sleep. He assessed her injuries, gaping at the open wounds that covered the parts of her body that were visible to his eyes. He couldn't even imagine what lied beneath her suit or her skin.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of grinding glass. He looked up to be met with the angry of eyes of Michael Vaughn.
"Put her down, and step away from her," Vaughn hissed, and when Sark hesitated, he spoke again forcefully, "Now."
Vaughn took his eyes off Sark momentarily to look at Sydney. She was hurt terribly and also out cold. He needed to get to her, but stopped when he recalled that he had called for backup. Officers would be here soon to get her to the hospital. In the meantime, he had to deal with Sark, whose hands were now raised in the air. It was his first priority...his job, to capture the villain who stood before him.
"Hello again Mr. Vaughn, long time no see," Sark smirked, recalling the last time they had met. Sark had shot at him, though luckily Vaughn had been wearing a bullet-proof vest.
"Shut up Sark. What have you done to Sydney...to Francie?"
"Ah, Mr. Vaughn, always jumping to conclusions, I must say I'm not surprised,"
At this quip, Vaughn lunged at Sark, grabbing him by the neck and held his pistol to his head. Vaughn looked at him squarely in the eyes, challenging him.
"Give me one reason to kill you Sark...I'll do it. You have done nothing but hurt Sydney over and over again," he spat out, eyes wild.
"Emotional attachments die hard, I see," Sark spoke, blue eyes meeting green.
"Shut up. Tell me what happened," Vaughn demanded. Sark hesitated. There was no reason to withhold the truth from the agent; he would find out from Sydney soon enough.
"That woman," he said pointing to Allison's body, "was not Francie Calfo. That woman was Allison Doran...she worked for Arvin Sloane."
Vaughn would have laughed out loud if he was not so shocked. The irony of it all was astounding. Of course the double was Sydney's best friend. He shuttered...Sydney had been living, probably for months, with the enemy.
"You bastard," he spoke venomously to Sark.
"I just got here at the tail end of their fight. Allison is dead..."
"And Sydney?" Vaughn asked in anticipation. Sark hesitated, then smiled slightly.
"She's alive," he said, looking over to where she laid.
At this moment, Weiss stepped into the apartment, gazing at the destroyed surroundings, his eyes falling on a now stirring Sydney.
"My God," he whispered, looking into Vaughn's eyes.
"I know," Vaughn answered, eyes threatening to fill with tears. Sark decided to take advantage of this emotional moment. He broke free of Vaughn's grasp, punching him in the stomach. Before Weiss had time to react, Sark retrieved the gun that remained in Sydney's hand and shot at both of them. They fell to the ground to protect themselves, both yelling in pain as their hands and faces were cut by glass. Sark turned on his heels and retreated from the apartment.
"Take care of her! I'm going after him!" Vaughn shouted to Weiss, ignoring the blood that fell from his hands. He grabbed his gun and ran after him. Once outside, he looked around for signs of the man, but found none. He sighed and turned back to the house.
"Hello Agent Vaughn. So nice to see you again," Arvin Sloane spoke, before Sark appeared again, his fist colliding with Vaughn's face; his last thought was of Sydney before his world became engulfed with darkness.