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Chapter Fifteen:

Beneath a Broken Sky

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There was a white light.

Vaughn could feel himself floating, bathed in a pure light that wrapped his senses in a drowsy calm. The blood that stained his skin melted away. The lines of sorrow that creased his face, the pain etched upon his heart, the scars on his skin all faded beneath the clear light that enfolded him. He was drifting, unable to open his eyes and see what lay before him.

Slowly, he returned to himself. The white light crawled away from him to become a dull glow that seeped in through closed eyes. The world flickered on the edges of his inner vision, and he felt himself rushing back through a thousand memories. He struggled to hold onto Sydney but faintly he realized that he was gripping something much harder than her flesh. It was solid, felt like plastic.

The light began to burn him, dazzling his senses and he opened his eyes with a start. Breath rushed back into his lungs and he found himself sitting in a chair, clutching the armrests tightly. The room swam slowly into focus and when his eyes cleared, he found himself staring at the last person he had ever expected to see again. Jack Bristow sat across from him at the round table, frowning as he gazed at Vaughn. A slow buzz of voices rose to take shape in Vaughn's ears and he blinked in confusion, glancing around the room.

He was sitting in the debrief room at the CIA headquarters, Sydney's seat beside him was empty. There was no blood staining his skin, he was dressed in a rumpled suit, tie loosened. His eyes widened in bewilderment and he glanced around the room. To his shock, he found Kendall standing at the head of the table, speaking to the group. Dixon was seated beside Jack across from Vaughn, Marshall was at one end of the table and beside him was Carrie. A very slim Carrie, obviously not pregnant at all. No one was paying any attention to Vaughn. Weiss was seated on his other side, sneaking furtive glances over at Vaughn.

"You okay, Mike?" Weiss's hushed whisper filtered into his ear as his friend leaned close to him and frowned as he took in Vaughn's pale face and shocked expression.

Vaughn stared at him, his eyes wide and he shook his head. "What the hell is going on?" He muttered. Turning to look back up at Kendall, he struggled to focus on what the man was saying.

"Both Sloane and Irina Derevko managed to escape our grasp at the last second, along with the Rambaldi device. We still do not know precisely what 'Il Dire' is but we have agents interrogating Mr. Sark for information as we speak."

Vaughn gasped softly in shock, staring at Kendall with wide eyes. Slowly he glanced around the room once more, pinching himself through his jacket to ensure that he was not dreaming. He glanced down at his watch and the date he found there confirmed his suspicions.

The date was May 4, 2003, two years earlier, the day that Sydney had died. Vaughn swallowed hard and tried to calm his racing thoughts and process this onslaught of information. He struggled to remember what Irina had said about the Rambaldi artifact, the gateway. The sight of the red stone, glowing symbols, was the last thing Vaughn remembered.

Irina's words came back to him, echoing in his mind with an eerie clarity as if she were right beside him, whispering in his ear. "This device would enable you to effectively destroy the Covenant, and it is possible that it will give you a chance to get your life back."

Vaughn frowned and shook himself, rubbing his eyes and struggling to put the pieces together. Then he heard Sydney's voice in his mind, one of the last things she had said to him. "I can change this! My mother told me that I could change this!"

Her tear-stained face, streaked with blood and so filled with determination filled his mind. Her hands, stained with her parent's blood, with his blood. Vaughn stared dully at his watch, waiting for the pieces to fall into place.

His eyes came to focus on the time suddenly, the glowing numbers that peered up at him from the shadows. They read eight thirty at night... His head snapped up and he swallowed hard. Sydney had been pronounced dead at nine thirty, he had arrived at her apartment and collapsed among the ashes around ten p.m.

Bolting upright out of his chair, Vaughn was on his feet before his brain could being to catch up with this information. Everything became clear in one split second as he felt his feet hit the floor. The room fell into silence and he could feel the wondering eyes of his colleagues following his back as he turned and sped out of the room.

"Agent Vaughn!" He heard Jack's voice call to him, filled with suppressed anger and suspicion as Vaughn raced through the CIA Operations Center. The sound of Jack's voice almost caused Vaughn to screech to a stop, the familiar voice that had come to mean so much to him over the past two years. Two years that were gone now, that had never happened except in Vaughn's memory. Recalling this fact, and the memory of what those two years had done to both him and Jack kept Vaughn's feet moving.

The agents in the office stared at him curiously as he raced across the room, but he paid them no heed. His thoughts were filled with only one thought, Sydney. He had to reach Sydney before it was too late.

Michael Vaughn was racing against time, to save the woman he loved from their own future. He had been given this one chance to prevent the disaster, to prevent their pain and suffering, to prevent Jack and Irina's deaths and the deaths of countless innocents at the hands of the Covenant. He had this chance to finally do what he had wished he had done countless times since she was gone, and get to her before the Covenant could.

So he ran, and prayed that he was right.

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There was darkness.

For Sydney, there was no white light. There was no pure oblivion that washed her bruised and broken body with a healing energy. There was only a deep and dark blackness that she drifted in, cut loose from all that she knew. She felt Vaughn's hand slip from her own, his fingers suddenly escaping her grasp. Then his presence left her and she was alone in her own private oblivion.

She was sinking deeper and deeper, unsure whether or not she was sinking into herself or into a physical cavern of emptiness. Her fingers clawed at empty space, her voice echoed around her, speaking nothing in the shadows. Vaughn was gone, she had lost him in the last moment by her own volition. Her parents were dead, cut down by her enemies. She was alone.

So she gave up fighting, finally allowed herself to be cut free from the guilt, the pain, the overwhelming grief. She let go. Let herself drift deeper into the darkness, an unending tunnel through which she drifted slowly down.

That was when she saw the light.

It was not a white light, it was a faint glow of color that glimmered through closed eyelids. The vacuum seemed to pull her faster, as she descended ever closer to the light at the end of the tunnel.

With an abrupt shock, she fell back into herself. She could feel her aching body once more, could feel the blood that stained her flesh. She could feel the wounds that tore through her body, crimson seeping freely from the abrasions. Her eyelids were heavy, gritty as if coated with sleep. She struggled to open them and bring the world into focus.

What she was before her was the last thing she expected to see. She was slumped against the wall in her apartment... her old apartment, the one that had been burned to the ground two years earlier.

Blinking slowly, Sydney was sure that she was dreaming. The room spun as she struggled to move, her aching head causing her vision to blur. The glow that had filtered into her consciousness was the lamp on the table, one of the few things that had not been smashed in her fight with Allison.

Allison. Sydney's eyes cleared and with a start, she saw the body lying a few feet away from her. The familiar face of her best friend was twisted in death's grimace. Her best friend was dead, as was this stranger who had taken her place. The blood was pouring freely from where Sydney had shot her, three times. She seemed to be clearly dead.

Sydney shuddered and shook her head, this wasn't possible. Her head felt fuzzy though, thick and filled with confusion. Struggling to stand, Sydney put her hands on the ground beside her for leverage and slipped on the broken glass. Sharp slivers sliced into her flesh but she barely felt it, it as nothing compared to the pain that the rest of her body was enduring.

Gritting her teeth, Sydney dug her hands into the broken glass that surrounded her and pushed herself up. With a gasp, she felt pain shoot through her, she could not identify the source but knew that it could be from anything. She had taken quite a beating in her fight with Allison, she had relived this fight in her mind a thousand times. It had been her last memory when she woke up in Hong Kong. Ironically, at this moment her last memory was of an event two years in the future. In Hong Kong, her last memory had been of this moment, two years in the past. Life played cruel little tricks on her.

Sydney leaned against the wall for support as she struggled to gain some sense of clarity, but none came to her. Her breathing was labored, pain shot through her with every small movement. She gazed around the destruction of the apartment with dazed eyes, taking into account everything before her. Shattered glass from the broken door, the table was overturned, legs broken. Dishes were strewn about the floor, cracked and broken. The scene before her mimicked her own broken and bruised flesh. Her life was spread out before her, bleeding to death.

Her eyes landed on the phone, it was only a few feet away. If she could reach it, she could call someone. She couldn't call her father, he was dead now. Sydney shook her head in confusion. No, he was alive. If this was the past, Jack was at the debrief with Vaughn...

Vaughn. Sydney's heart nearly stopped in her chest, her breath catching at the thought of him. Her last memory of him was amidst the destruction in her mother's compound in Spain. He had been covered with blood, consumed by grief. He had tried to stop her... but what had she done?

Sydney tried to move forward, stumbling over scattered debris and faltering from the waves of agony that consumed her. Crying aloud, she bit her lip and silently chastised herself. She had withstood worse than this and fought her way out. All she had to do was reach the phone, call for help. But it seemed further and further away.

Pushing herself forward, Sydney landed on the couch and her hand grasped wildly for the phone. She breathed a sigh of relief as she heard a dial tone in her ear and she began to punch in the familiar numbers for Vaughn's cell phone.

That's when the black gloved hand struck her hard from behind and she slumped forward, over the broken table and shattered glass. The Covenant agent calmly removed the phone from her grip and switched it off.

"Get her up," the agent ordered, eyeing the wounded woman with disdain. The other agent nodded and began to pick up Sydney when a sudden noise caused him to jump in surprise. Clutching Sydney tighter in his arms, the agent turned to investigate.

Vaughn was standing in the doorway, gun trained on the agent's head. He had kicked in the door, finding it locked and found that he had arrived just in time. His eyes were like steel, cutting deep into the heart of the agent and stirring a fear that he had never known before.

"Put. Her. Down." Vaughn ordered, his words containing an icy chill of command that made the agent shiver in fear. Vaughn's jaw clenched and he took a step into the room, toward the agent. He did not dare look down at Sydney for fear that if he did, he would lose all composure. He had to be strong, he had to get her out of here.

A soft click resounded in his ear and he froze, feeling the cold metal of a gun barrel pressed up against the back of his neck. Swallowing hard, Vaughn's eyes flickered around the room, there were only two agents. He could handle this. He steadied himself, preparing to spring when the agent standing behind him began to speak.

"Agent Vaughn, I presume." The voice halted Vaughn's train of thought instantly and he suppressed a gasp. The cultured British accent had become all too familiar to him in the worst way, he had thought he had rid himself of it but obviously if Jack was still alive, then Lauren was still alive.

She shook her head and laughed softly, lifting her gun away from his skin, preparing to slam the butt into the back of his head. Vaughn whirled around faster than she could move, one hand coming up to grip her throat. His other hand grasped the gun in her hand and wrenched it free. He slammed Lauren hard back against the wall, her head collided with a sickening thud. He pivoted on one foot and flipped the gun around in his hand, aiming it at the agent who held Sydney.

The agent fired at him and quickly he pulled Lauren in front of him, using her as a human shield. The bullet slammed into her shoulder and tore through the flesh but did not reach Vaughn. He felt the warmth of her blood seeping through the fabric and spreading out across his chest. Vaughn did not hesitate as he pulled the trigger and shot the other agent in the temple. The agent let out a strangled groan and fell back, one side of his head landing a good two feet behind him. His blood mingled with the blood that was already sprayed all over the apartment, Allison's blood... Sydney's blood. Sydney went down with him as he fell, still unconscious. He would do her no harm now that he was dead.

Gritting his teeth, Vaughn turned Lauren around and slammed her hard against the wall. Ripping off her mask, he exposed a mass of blonde hair and cruel features that he recognized all too well.

"Why couldn't you just stay dead?" Vaughn demanded, hissing at her in disgust. Lauren frowned, clearly confused as to what he was talking about. Vaughn just shook his head and brought the gun up to slam into the back of her head. She slumped over, unconscious at his feet. He wished he could have killed her a second time, but he had the feeling that they would need the information that she contained. It would be through Lauren that they could destroy the Covenant before they even came to power, Vaughn was sure of it.

Dropping the gun, Vaughn turned away from Lauren and dropped to his knees amidst the shattered glass and broken debris. He knelt before Sydney, where she had been tossed on the floor like a rag doll, and gathered her into his arms. He pressed his ear to her chest, hearing her heart beating steadily beneath her breast. Her breathing was shallow however and her skin was pale beneath the layers of blood caked on it. He had to get her to a hospital, and fast.

Pulling her close to him, he gathered her up in his arms and nestled her against his chest. She was a fairly tall woman, but in his arms she seemed no bigger than a child. An innocent child who did not deserve the abuse that she had received.

Studying her carefully, Vaughn could see the blood streaking her flesh. A small trail dripped from her mouth, down her chin and he swallowed hard at the sight. He smoothed away the blood with his sleeve, leaving a red stain behind on her flesh. There was an ugly bruise forming on her temple and he worried that she might have a concussion.

Vaughn grit his teeth and held her close, rocking her gently in his arms. Despite everything she had endured tonight and how close he had come to losing her, he felt a profound relief wash over him. He had made it to her just in time, the Covenant would not have her. They would not have him. He had changed their future.

Stroking her hair softly, he allowed himself this moment to revel in the feeling of being alive. Though he stood amidst dead bodies and massive destruction, he could not wish to be anywhere else at that moment. He kissed her head softly and whispered in her hair, "I didn't fail you this time, Syd... You did it, you brought us back and we changed everything. It will be okay now, it will be okay."

And for the first time, he believed his own words.

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