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Chapter Seventeen:
Threads of An Old Life
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In this place, heaven was made of bare white walls. People came here to live and die at a moment's notice. An individual could see their dreams reflected in the faces of others. Others who had come close to dying and realized how truly alive or dead they truly were. Those who survived lived better lives and others did not make it. The weak were devoured by the strong in this world.
Sydney Bristow was not weak.
She was studying her reflection in the windowpane, the outline curving slowly across the glass. She could only see a wavering image of herself against the sunlight, which filled her vision beyond. She was outlined in golden shadows, hair dark and shorter than she recalled. She could see that some of the scars were gone, skin unblemished where once a mark had lingered. Her face was not as pale as before, her eyes not as haunted. Instead, they now held a gleam of knowledge that they had never contained before. A wisdom this deep could only be inspired by a dramatic revolution of the soul, something that had been stirred deep within. The power of the Rambaldi artifact had changed her, the knowledge of the time that was now gone and what she had gone through stayed with her. Those experiences had aged her soul, the Rambaldi artifact had changed it. She could not explain it, only that she could see herself in everything around her now. The sway of the wind in the trees whispered its secrets to her, the bark was like her skin. Tough and unyielding, a soft core hiding within. She felt more connected to everything around her, namely the one other person who had undergone this experience with her.
She saw him approach from behind her in the reflection, rising up from the sunlight and reaching out to wrap his arms around her waist. She smiled as his chin came to rest on her shoulder. She leaned back against the solid strength of his chest and tilted her head back to allow him to drop a kiss onto waiting lips.
"I missed you," he smiled, a sort of wild joy was in his face as he looked at her and she chuckled.
"You've only been gone two hours," she smirked at him and shook her head, "I suppose Kendall wants me to report to him as soon as possible," she frowned. "When does he want me in?"
Vaughn shook his head, "You're not going into the office today, or tomorrow or any other day for the rest of the month unless you want to."
The expression of shock on Sydney's face made Vaughn laugh and she shook her head at him. "How on earth did you manage that one?'
Vaughn shrugged innocently, "I had your Jack's help."
Sydney groaned and smiled ruefully, "Dare I ask what my father threatened Kendall with if he didn't let me have sick leave?"
Vaughn grinned, "I don't think we should ever ask how with your father again, just accept it as long as its remotely legal." Sydney couldn't help but giggle softly at this, the joy that she felt at having her father back was astounding. The first few days after their return, she saw the image of her parent's dead bodies imprinted on the back of her eyelids. Only now did it fade, only when Vaughn was here. It was fading more and more everyday, but the memory remained.
Still, uncertainty lingered in the back of her mind. Several untold fears lingered beneath her joy, only after she had taken care of them could she move on. Vaughn knew it, he could sense it in the troubled clouds that drifted over her eyes. She knew that he could see it in her, but it did not bother her. He was as much a part of this as she was.
"Vaughn," the way his name spilled from her lips caught his attention. He frowned and turned her to face him, the worry had returned to her eyes. He smoothed a hand across her brow, fingers trailing gently through loose strands of hair and her eyelids fluttered beneath the touch. Her gaze darted away from him.
"I've stopped asking myself exactly what happened when we went through that gateway," she shivered slightly at the memory and his hands instinctively moved down to her arms, warming her, though the chill resided deep beneath her flesh.
"But I have this fear of what could happen if anyone unearthed that gateway, if they learned how to activate in another way... the results could be disastrous." Sydney shook her head and felt Vaughn's grip on her arms tighten ever so slightly, as if he was trying to hold onto her. She looked up to meet his gaze and saw the same veiled fear there that she felt. He nodded slowly, hearing the words that she did not speak.
"I have to finish this." Sydney whispered. Vaughn studied her carefully, the sunlight creeping in through the window illuminating her from behind. She seemed so small in this moment, but she was much stronger than either of them could ever have imagined. He knew that now, but he also knew her weaknesses.
"No, Sydney," Vaughn closed his eyes and breathed in the moment. His hands trailed down to clasp her hands. "We will finish this."
When he opened his eyes, he found that her smile was brighter than the sun. The shadows yielded beneath her light. Hand in hand, they turned and left the empty hospital room behind.
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The air was thick and wet, the steam that drifted up from the floor to circle his head in lazy clouds was heavy on his skin. Tonight, the world seemed to weigh heavier than ever on his aged shoulders. Clasping his hands before him, he bowed his head and allowed his thoughts to take him far away. His memory was long, it could take him to a time of happiness and love in his life. A time that was long since past.
Absently, his thumb traced over the symbol that was etched deep into the flesh between his thumb and his forefinger. Three small shapes, two small points and a circle. That was all it took to change his life forever, to rip his son from his grasp, to give his wife reason to leave him.
Since that day, he had dedicated his life to the search for the truth. A search that had become an obsession over the long years, but it had never left him satisfied.
He stared dully into the fog, aware of the marks that the passage of time had left on his physical form, his soul, his aged mind. The wrinkles on the backs of his hands softened beneath the moist warmth, the thinning white hair was flattened against his scalp. In his soul, was where he bore the weight of time heaviest. His heart was falling into a dark void, he knew that he did not have much time left on this earth. He only wished that he could pass on the legacy that he had uncovered over the years. The legacy of Rambaldi.
As he gazed morosely into the clouds of steam that filled the room, he saw shapes begin to form. Images arose in the swirling depths, memories of a time long past. And a face, familiar to him from the Rambaldi prophecies. The face of the woman.
It was only when she spoke, that he realized that she was real. She had slipped in through the side door and was standing before him. Her hands were folded behind her as she watched him with knowing eyes.
"Mr. Lazarey," she addressed comfortably, her voice smooth as it slid softly through the steam to meet his ears.
He frowned and clutched his towel tighter around his waist, "Who are you?" The question was voiced aloud, even as he realized that he knew the answer to his own question. She was the woman he had wondered about for the past twenty years. She was the woman of the prophecy, the key to every Rambaldi mystery. The spider on the web of intrigue that Rambaldi had spun long ago.
"My name is Sydney Bristow," she had decided to speak the truth. The Lazarey that she remembered had been a good man, willing to work with her. She knew that she held the only bargaining chip that he would accept, though she was unsure how fair of a bargain this might be.
"You are... the woman in the prophecy," Lazarey stood slowly, gazing at her with wide eyes. He had heard rumors of the woman surfacing in America, working for the U.S. Government. He had never known whether or not to believe the rumors until now. She stood before him in the flesh, and deep down he felt a weight lift from his heart. She would free him of his burdens.
Sydney grimaced and nodded her assent to his statement, "Yes I am." She took a step toward him and for the first time, Lazarey could sense the power that was held in the core of this woman. It was coiled in the deepest part of her soul, ready to be unleashed on any who invoked her wrath.
Lazarey had the feeling that he never wanted to be on Sydney Bristow's bad side.
"What do you want from me?" There was an uneasiness rising in him now, Sydney could practically taste it. She could recognize his jerky movements as a sign of anxiety that she had grown to recognize. All she could do was issue a silent apology to this man who had been her unlikely partner in another life.
"I need the keys," the words slipped so easily from her mouth and Lazarey smiled, as if he had expected this.
"Tell me Sydney, are you working for yourself or the CIA?"
Sydney grimaced and shook her head, "The CIA knows nothing about this, you know nothing about this. The Covenant is gone and I am making sure that it remains that way."
Lazarey nodded slowly and looked her up and down, his haunted eyes measuring her worth. She was the woman and his own adherence to the mythology dictated that he help her. Still, he wondered what he might gain from this.
"What are you preparing to offer me in exchange, Ms. Bristow?"
Sydney grimaced and seemed to be weighing her options in her mind before nodding and bringing her hand from behind her back. There was a thick file clutched in it, and he frowned as he accepted it from her.
"I know your son," Sydney said softly. Lazarey snapped to attention, staring at her and then ripping open the file in his hand.
"Julian Sark, born Julian Lazarey, is a known terrorist. He has been on the CIA's most wanted list for several years, only now have we finally taken him into custody."
Lazarey was stunned by this information, there on the first page was a picture of his son glaring up at him through the glossy paper. He could not believe how much Julian resembled him at his age. He had missed so much, given up hope that he would ever find his son alive.
"How..." Lazarey shook his head and glanced up at Sydney, brow creasing in confusion. "How did you know that he was my son?"
Sydney's expression hardened but he could see her eyes soften slightly, "There are many things that I know, Mr. Lazarey, that you may not expect. I have given you information that you have been searching over twenty years for. I want the keys."
Lazarey gazed down at the photograph of Sark and swallowed hard. He had every reason to doubt all of this, but there was truth in every word that Sydney spoke. He had learned well how to decipher the truth between a myriad of lies, but this woman gave him no deception. The sigh of his son made his heart ache, he was the spitting image of Lazarey himself at such a young age. So young and already such a terror to the world, Lazarey could only imagine what kind of things he had done. He had the feeling that he would find all those answers and more in the contents of this file.
"I want to see him," Lazarey whispered. Sydney remained where she was, unmoving and awaiting his decision.
"First, you give me the keys. Then we will strike a deal."
Lazarey closed the folder and looked up at her, an faint smile crossing his face. He could sense her stubborn nature and knew that even if he did not agree, she would get the keys one way or another.
"I think we have a deal already, Sydney."
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Vaughn was waiting in a car outside of the house, one hand gripped the steering wheel, the other gripped the hilt of his gun in its holster. His knuckles were beginning to turn white from the tension, a dozen paranoid scenarios running through his head as he waited for Sydney to return. He did not like the thought of her going in alone, but he had to remember that she had done this once before. She could do it again.
At that moment, she appeared outside the car door, emerging from the shadows as a dark shape that took on life of its own. He opened the door for her and she eased into the passenger seat. A thick metal box was nestled in her arms and she smiled brightly at the sight of him.
"All taken care of," she inclined her head toward the box and chuckled at the sight of the gun clenched tightly in his hand. "Put it away, Vaughn. We're safe for now."
He blew out a sigh of relief and grinned at her as he relaxed his grip, his smile faded as he glanced at the box. "What are we going to do with them."
"Simple," Sydney said as she opened the box and examined the keys. "They're metal, we melt them down. Make a nice ashtray out of them or something."
Vaughn shook his head as he started the car and pulled out, "You don't smoke, Syd."
She shrugged and ran her fingers along the edge of one key, the teeth tearing at her skin. "So we'll give it to my dad, I think that he smokes cigars every now and then."
"I thought that cigars were only for new fathers in fifties movies," Vaughn frowned and Sydney laughed.
"Or Grandfathers," she mused with a glint of mischief in her eyes. Vaughn grinned and glanced at her with a shake of his head.
"One thing at a time," he told her. "First we have to finish saving the world before we can have any kids. Imagine how much less time to have to save the world when we have children?" Sydney laughed at this, a full throated laugh that resounded throughout the car and left Vaughn grinning like a fool.
"You know what we're going to do after this?" Vaughn asked, a smile playing across his lips. Sydney couldn't help but grin faintly at the enthusiasm in his voice. He had been changed as much as she had, more dangerous and smarter than before but he had regained a sense of childish joy about simple things that made her heart leap. It seemed that most things about her made him ridiculously happy these days, rather than worried. They had been through too much together, they both knew that they could not lose each other now.
"What?" Sydney asked, she had a good idea of what they would be doing after this but she decided to play along anyway. It was worth it just to see the happiness on his face.
Vaughn grinned, "We're taking that trip to Santa Barbara. I think that we definitely deserve it, after all this time."
Sydney gazed at him, a soft smile on her face. They more than deserved it, they needed it. There was still so much confusion that lingered in both of their heads that had been pushed aside for the moment until it could be sorted out. They deserved a new beginning together, a time to be together without worry of getting caught or killed at any possible moment.
"You still have our hotel booked?" She asked.
"Yup," Vaughn was obviously pleased with himself and she grinned.
"I think I might just take you up on that offer, Agent Vaughn." Her soft chuckle subsided to a sigh as she glanced out the window and remembered where they were. She watched the scenery drift past the window as they sped over empty roads. The world blurred in her vision and she turned her gaze back to Vaughn. He was the one clear thing she knew.
He sensed her shift in mood and glanced over at her, one hand sneaking over to grip hers tightly. "You sure you want to do this, Syd?"
She swallowed hard and nodded, "I need some sort of closure, Vaughn." He squeezed her hand and bringing it to his lips, placed a gentle kiss on the palm without moving his eyes from the road. With a sigh, she leaned her forehead against the cold glass of the window. Her eyes struggled to catch up with the swiftly moving scenery, but she couldn't keep them focused for too long. Vaughn's hand rested on her thigh, where her fingers occasionally danced in and out of his grasp. Her breath steamed against the glass, distorting the world beyond and clouding her vision. She did not need to see the familiar shape of the land or the twisting road to know where they were headed. The images were fading, but one still remained. She had to face this memory, or let it kill her.
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