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Chapter Eleven:
Decisions
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The silence hung in the room like a cloud, drifting lazily around the three people seated at the table. Jack waited with baited breath for one of them to speak, but neither did. The moment stretched on into nothingness, Sydney simply stared at him, eyes wide with shock. Vaughn sat utterly still, his eyes fixed on the portrait before him. It was as if he had not heard a word of their conversation, but the way his muscles were tensed proved otherwise. He exuded an air of calm but inside, he was coiled like a wire ready to spring, a spark prepared to flare into a flame. Slowly, Sydney's eyes shifted to him and as if he could feel her gaze on him, he looked up at her. There was a deep weariness there and Sydney felt her heart ache at the sight. She wished that she could protect him from this, but it was beyond her control.
"Vaughn? This is up to you now. We could go back to L.A in the morning if you wanted, turn it over to the DSR."
"And pretend like nothing has happened?" His voice was filled with bitterness that stung her sharply, though she knew it was not directed toward her.
"Pretend like you haven't been gone for six months? Like there is no marker hanging on the wall that says, 'Sydney Bristow, killed in action'? Like we didn't just find a prophecy that would make me a prisoner of the same government I've dedicated my life to?" He took a deep breath and reached over to grasp her hand, drawing on her unwavering strength. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, Sydney. This is our only choice." He opened his eyes and looked back to Jack. When he spoke again, she could hear the same determination there that she had associated with Vaughn for years.
"How do we find her?" He asked.
Jack leaned back in his chair, palms flat on the tabletop on both sides of the prophecy. Tapping his fingers gently against the paper, he cleared his throat.
"I first made contact with Irina five months ago, to inform her of Sydney's death," He flinched at the word and glanced to his daughter apologetically. She shook her head slightly to indicate that it was okay, she had become accustomed to speaking of her own death openly.
"I was also seeking her help, to discover if she had any information on who had been responsible for the fire. Since that time, we have been in steady communication through an untraceable computer I have in my posession." Jack turned to retrieve the black bag beside him and withdrew a small laptop computer. He placed it on the table beside the prophecy. "I can contact her now if you wish."
Vaughn nodded, pushing away from the table and standing. His hand slipped from Sydney's grasp and she sat motionless. Her eyes flickered from the computer, to the prophecy, to the two men she loved most in the world. She could not bear to lose them again.
"How do we know that we can trust her?" Sydney asked. Jack appeared uncomfortable with the question and shifted slightly in his seat. Sydney raised her eyebrows. "Dad?"
Vaughn spoke instead, his eyes on the floor. "If your father trusts her, after all that she's done to him, I will trust her as well." He shuddered at his own words, wrapping his arms around his damp chest. Sydney stood and pulled his arms away from his chest, replacing them with her own. They stood still for a moment, her head tucked under his chin as he smoothed his hands over her back. She knew how hard this was for him, she had gone through so much of it herself in the past.
Jack spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb the moment. "One thing I have learned about Irina Derevko is that, despite everything, her love for her family is stronger than her loyalty, even to herself. I don't think even she realized that until she saw you three years ago. When the three of us were together again, she realized how much she truly wanted a family. She loves you, Sydney, and she will do anything for you. It is only now that I realize, how many of her actions were done to protect you." Jack looked up at her with veiled eyes, secrets there which Sydney had not seen before. She swallowed the questions that threatened to spill from her lips and shook her head.
"But will she help Vaughn?" She asked softly. Jack looked at Vaughn who stood with eyes closed, arms still wrapped around Sydney, face buried in her hair.
"She will have to." He said simply. That wasn't good enough for Sydney.
"Why?"
Jack's eyes slid from her to Vaughn and back again. "Because he loves you too. She won't do anything to compromise your happiness. In her heart, Irina truly is your mother and despite her actions to the contrary, she wants what is best for you." Jack shook his head and Sydney wondered at what words her parents had exchanged since she last saw them. It seemed not so long ago that Jack had been fully committed to doing anything he could to see Irina Derevko dead, and now he spoke of her with a deeper tone in his voice, something like love.
"You two should get some rest," he told them. He stood up and placed the prophecy back into the box. "I'll contact Irina and arrange a meet. We can leave in the morning, until then we will be safe." He crossed around to their side of the table and Sydney broke free of Vaughn's arms, falling into Jack's.
"Thank you, Daddy." She whispered.
"Anything for you, sweetheart, anything." He held her tightly before releasing her back to Vaughn. Jack stroked his daughter's hair gently. "We can talk more later, right now all that is important is that you rest." He traced the circles under her eyes gently and smiled. "You both look like you need it." Sydney shook her head and clasped the hand cupping her face with her own.
"I love you, Dad."
Jack felt the familiar burning in his eyes and blinked rapidly, clearing his throat softly. "I love you too, baby."
Turning away from him, Sydney slipped her arm around Vaughn's waist. Vaughn glanced back at Jack as the two of them strode quietly from the kitchen. The two of them shared one of those silent conversations with their eyes that Jack had thought was reserved specifically for his daughter. Vaughn's eyes were filled with gratitude and relief, as well as a deep seated fear. Jack was sure that his eyes showed the same.
He stood alone in the kitchen, listening to the sound of their footsteps on the stairs. After a long moment, he sat back down at the table and opened the computer.
Irina was waiting.
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Lauren stood in the pouring rain, cursing at the car on the side of the road. Of all the cars, she had to steal the one that broke down twenty minutes away from the harbor. Sighing in frustration, she angrily pushed wet hair out of her eyes and gave up on trying to start it again. She was losing precious time, she had to find a phone and make contact with the Covenant. She groaned at that prospect, she would certainly receive an earful from Cole when he learned that she had not yet obtained Vaughn and Bristow. She could practically hear his smug voice in her head, mocking her abilities. She slammed her fist on the hood of the car, water bouncing around her hand as she did so. She would not be known as a failure. Who knows what the Covenant would do to her if she returned empty handed. What her father would do to her. She shuddered at the thought, a cold chill of fear running down her spine like the cold rain that washed over her.
Muttering curses under her breath, she pulled the tracking device out of her pocket and consulted the coordinates. She was still a good ten miles from her destination, but it seemed that Vaughn had stopped running. His signal had been consistent for the last half hour, she considered this a good sign. Hopefully, wherever he was, he would stay there until morning and she would have plenty of time to catch up with him.
Kicking the car one last time, she turned away from it and headed down the empty road. She gritted her teeth as the rain soaked her to the bone and wrapped her arms around herself in attempt to stay warm. She would make Sydney Bristow pay for this.
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They discarded the layers of clothing as they entered the large bathroom together. Bloody sweater and damp dress collided in a heap on the floor, wordlessly they stepped into the bathroom together. Vaughn turned on the hot water and turned to Sydney as she ran her fingers through her dark hair. Catching the hand in mid motion, he pulled it free and kissed the palm of her hand gently. She smiled at his gesture and slid her arms around him. He wrapped his arms around her, gently undoing the clasp of her bra and sliding each individual strap down her shoulders until it fell away from her breast. He kissed the red marks the straps had left on her skin, pleased by the way she shivered under his lips.
They stepped into the shower together, the steam billowing around them as they did so. Sydney turned her back to him and lathered a cloth with soap, gently smoothing it across her skin. She leaned her head back and he kissed her neck softly, washing away the imprint of his lips with the cloth in his hand. A small sound escaped her lips, like a cat purring, and he smiled.
"Vaughn," she murmured into the dull roar of the water and he pressed closer to her, rubbing the cloth across the scars on her stomach gently.
"Yes," his response was muffled by his lips against the skin of her collarbone. A smile twisted her lips slightly and she turned in his embrace. The washcloth fell, forgotten, to the floor.
"Are you sure about this?" Sydney asked. Vaughn raised his eyebrows in amusement, glancing down at her naked form curiously.
"About what?" He asked, laughter in his voice. She gently smacked his chest as she interpreted the meaning of his words.
"Not that, silly." She laughed softly, the sound was music to his ears. But she quickly regained seriousness.
"I mean, about going to see my mother. All of this has been so hard on you already and seeing her won't make it any easier."
Vaughn slid his hands up to her shoulderblades and hugged her close to him, the water cascading down onto their joined flesh. He closed his eyes and saw Irina Derevko in his mind. For so many childhood years, he had envisioned his father's killer as a monster. He had never thought that the monster of his childhood nightmares would have the eyes of the woman he loved. Those beautiful deep dark eyes that he leaned back now to look into. Sydney's eyes, Irina's eyes. He had never imagined that the hands that had killed his father would be so almost identical to the hands that currently traced a path along the curve of his spine with a loving touch. He had never imagined that the woman who had taken his father from him would give him the greatest gift he could ever ask for.
"I see her all the time," Vaughn whispered. "I see her in you." Sydney stiffened in his arms and averted his eyes from his. Shaking his head, Vaughn cupped her cheek and forced her gaze back to his. "But you are not her, Sydney. As much as I have hated her in the past, that hatred is overwhelmed only by my love of you. She gave you life and however strongly I may have resented her for taking my father's life, I will always be eternally grateful to her for giving me you in return." Her eyes softened at his words and tears glistened in the corners of each one. He brought her face to him and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips.
"Besides," he whispered when he pulled away. "My father held a few secrets of his own, as we now know. He was keeping that painting away from your mother and I want to know why."
"Maybe the fact that your father broke the rules, hid that painting, should teach us not to trust her. She was willing to kill for it then, how do we know she won't kill us now?" Sydney's eyes were filled with concern.
"A lot has changed in thirty years, Sydney. This prophecy, whatever it is, its about us in some way and our parents went to extreme lengths to discover the truth behind it all. I think its up to us now. I don't think even your mother would kill two people foretold in the prophecies. She has searched too long for the truth and now we are bringing her an important piece of the puzzle. I admit, it does make me nervous, but I would prefer a quick death at the hands of Irina Derevko than the cage that the DSR will put us in, or the torture the Covenant would inflict on us. Or Sloane." Vaughn shuddered. "I don't even have to tell you what I would rather endure compared to Arvin Sloane." Sydney chuckled at his words and nodded.
"I never thought I would hear my father speak about Irina Derevko the way he did just now. It was like he wasn't speaking about a traitor to him and his country, but his wife. As if he's forgiven her for what she's done." Sydney shook her head. "I never thought he could forgive her."
"I think your dad still loves her," Vaughn said softly. Sydney picked up the washcloth he had abandoned and started to work it over his chest. She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully.
"I think so, too. He can't help himself. I saw it when I was Kashmir, the way they looked at each other." Sydney shook her head and smiled at the memory. "We were a family then, a very dysfunctional family," she laughed. "But a family nonetheless." She sobered and slid the cloth against his hip. Looking up at him, she smiled, one of those huge smiles where the dimples came out in full force and stole his breath.
"Promise me," she whispered, pressing herself to him. "That our family will be at least, remotely functional?"
Vaughn laughed but a wave of love swept over him, in his mind he could see visions of young dark haired children with green eyes climbing all over them. Sydney, swollen with child, aglow with the light of motherhood. His heart beat faster, his breath halting altogether at the thought. He met her eyes and kissed her with joy.
"I promise," he murmured against her lips. Sydney laughed and his heart swelled with joy, all fear and pain was gone in that moment as they imagined their lives together. Their life as it could be, once it was all over.
Sydney rested her head gently against his chest as he poured some shampoo into his hand, gently rubbing it through her hair. She sighed softly, a sound of contentment as his fingers stroked her scalp. Lifting her head to nuzzle his neck, she froze suddenly. Her body went stiff in his arms and he frowned.
"What's wrong?" He murmured, looking down at her. Her eyes were wide with fear as she slid one hand up his bare chest, wrapping it around his neck. His eyebrows narrowed in concern at the horrified expression on her face. The fear rushed back into his heart suddenly, all joy evaporating as she gazed into his eyes. Slowly, she pulled her hand away from his skin and held her palm up to him. Looking down, his heart seemed to halt for a moment at what he saw.
In the palm of her hand was a tiny patch of what appeared to be flesh, it was translucent and light save for the dark microchip in the center. He had never even felt it on his skin.
Vaughn looked back into her eyes, fear clawing his heart desperately. They did not need to speak, no need to confirm what it was she had found, they both recognized it clearly enough. The bitch had tagged him before she had left and they were both certain that they had not seen the last of Lauren Reed.
"We have to get out of here," Sydney breathed. She quickly rinsed her hair and shut the water off, sliding the door open so swiftly that it banged against the wall. Vaughn followed her, the water dripping from his flesh the only sound in the sudden deathly quiet. Sydney wrapped a towel around her waist and flung the door open, the chip still clutched tightly in her hand.
"Dad!" She rushed down the steps, Vaughn a few paces after her, throwing a towel around his waist as he moved. He slid into the kitchen on wet feet, a few steps behind her as she dumped the chip onto the table in front of a surprised Jack.
"Lauren has been tracking us, we need to get out of here now!"
Jack shot to his feet, closing the computer with a snap. Hastily, he gathered the items on the table into the bag and slipped back into agent mode.
"Get dressed," he ordered them. "There's no telling how far she might be. We'll leave the tracker here and by the time she gets here, we'll be long gone."
Sydney nodded, spinning on one foot to rush from the kitchen. It was then that the three of them heard the noise outside, the telltale rustle of another person brushing past the bushes. Each froze in mid-motion, three pairs of eyes turning to the front door as the knob began to turn.
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