Chapter 6: The Police Station

A/n: Thanks so much for the reviews! You know how they make my day. And Nat- they're starting Season 4 in January and you can read it here: . I know these chapters have been shorter but please bear with me, they'll get back to the usual length eventually. Enjoy! Theme song: My Band by D12

Disclaimer: Alias belongs to JJ Abrams and not to me. But man, if I owned Alias...

Vaughn gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove down the road that would lead him into town. His left foot bounced nervously beside his driving foot, and he noticed his knuckles beginning to turn white. Relax, he told himself over and over again. Yet with each encouragement he couldn't seem to follow the directions he gave himself. He couldn't help it, though; he was too concerned about Sydney's condition at home. And because Sydney was so concerned, he began to truly worry about Jason.

Earlier that morning he had almost no concern at all, and he was absolutely certain that Jason was just goofing off somewhere on the beach and had lost track of time. Sydney was probably just overreacting, right? He wondered what she was doing right now...

She wouldn't be sitting still, she'd have to be moving around, trying to let her doubts escape her head. It was much like when she found out about her father's leukemia, she couldn't sit at home and cry, so she went on a long run. He knew she went to talk with her father, yet he still never learned of what they talked about. Vaughn almost smiled as he remembered the days before he and Sydney were married; the time frame between SD-6's bring down and they're wedding.

Those were also the days before they found Jason in a cardboard box on the island. Jason... Where was that boy? Maybe he had returned back home and Sydney was scolding him for scaring her. Or perhaps the girls had found him on the beach, or Francie and Weiss had found him downtown. He dismissed these ideas that someone had found him, however, because he was sure that they would have called his cell phone already.

He quickly checked to make sure it was on; which it was. He sighed, turning a sharp corner into the police station parking lot. If Jason hadn't been found yet, then where was he? Vaughn was eager to know. He tried to think of an excuse of his location as he found a parking spot near the door, but each excuse he found unacceptable in the Vaughn home. Girls, drugs, and alcohol would get his son in dire trouble, and Jason knew that.

Vaughn sat in his car for a moment, turning the keys towards him as the engine shut off, but not pulling the keys out of the ignition. An anger gently swayed through his body. Jason wasn't at home, or the beach, or downtown. And he wouldn't be out with a girl, or doing crack cocaine in some alley with a homeless man, or getting drunk with some college students. And it made Vaughn angry that he couldn't figure out where he was.

Vaughn slapped the steering wheel's edge with his right hand and brought it up to massage his temples. Why was he at he police station anyway? Oh right, because Sydney wanted him to go. He knew the police wouldn't do anything until Jason was missing for twenty-four hours. There would only be disappointment at this place, he felt. Looking around, he saw many cars pulling in and out while people hurried in and out the door. He felt like everyone in town was here today. He wondered how many of these people were reporting a missing person, or if any of them had a legitimate excuse to be there.

And technically, he thought, I don't have a legitimate excuse to be here... Drumming his fingers along the steering wheel, he thought What have I got to lose? If the police wouldn't do anything then he could always pull the I'm with the CIA' trick. He hated to do it, but for what he had done for the past twenty-five or so years, his country owed him the favor.

He ripped the keys from the ignition and stepped out of the SUV. He locked it and meandered inside. As he pushed open the front door, a wall of noise roared against him and nearly drove him back to his car. However, he penetrated forward, slowly adjusting. Every desk in the large room was filled with people and officers, and at first he wasn't sure where to start. A desk to his left emptied of citizens and Vaughn hurried over there.

Sorry, sir, the officer said, holding his hand up as Vaughn approached. I'm on break.

He rounded the corner to start walking away, but loomed near the side of it. My name is Michael Vaughn. I'm with the Agency. He took out his badge from his pocket and slid it open on the desk towards the officer. He wasn't proud of himself for pulling it out, but if it would help locate his son, then he would pull the badge whenever necessary.

The officer raised his eyebrow as he stepped closer to inspect the badge. It seemed to pass his inspection. Why, did someone in my precinct do something illegal?

No, no. My son has gone missing.

Vaughn looked at his name tag: Brant. Officer Brant checked his watch and sighed, but he headed back around his desk and took a seat. How old is he and when did he go missing?

He's fifteen. And he could have disappeared anytime from eleven last night to this early this morning.

Officer Brant stared blankly. Look, we're not supposed to issue search warrants until the kid's been missing for twenty-four hours –

Please, he's a responsible kid and I don't think he's just wandered off... I believe something serious really may have happened.

The officer squinted one eye as he stared at Vaughn, breathing deeply. The way his head was angled, he must have been staring down his round nose and catching glimpses of his drooping cheeks. His gray hair and muscular build suggested that during his prime years he had worked in the field, but the gentle beer belly he had developed proved that he hadn't done it for a while. All right, he finally said to Vaughn's relief. but I'm only letting you do this because of your CIA status. He reached down into a drawer to Vaughn's right and brought up a small pile of papers. He set them in front of Vaughn and handed him a pen. Fill these out. I'm going to take my break, but I should be back by the time you finish them.

Vaughn nodded. As he popped the cap off the pen's tip, the officer walked away briskly. Vaughn flipped through the sheets; four in total. He let out a heavy breath and started to work.

Vaughn pulled his sunglasses on as he walked back out to the SUV. He slid into his seat and rubbed the steering wheel before he wiped his chin. The papers he had to fill out frustrated him greatly. It was nothing but paragraphs of mumbo-jumbo to read and then sign on the dotted line' to accept the clauses. Then there were repeated questions where he had to write the same things over again: descriptions of Jason, time he was last seen, who he was last seen with, descriptions of where he was last seen, etc. But he was finally finished filling them out, and Officer Brant had returned exactly as he finished like he promised he would. Then it took a while for the officer to file his report and get it approved by his commanding officer.

But then he was allowed to leave, much to his liking.

He wanted nothing more to get home and be with his wife, and possibly Mandy if she was back yet. He wondered if Jason had returned and they had tried to reach him while he was in the police station. Picking up his cell phone, he checked to see if anyone had called, but no one had. He began to dial the number to the cottage to tell Sydney he was on his way back, and a search warrant had been issued.

The time was 10:47, he noticed, as the phone began to ring, but no one answered it. Seven... Eight... Nine rings, and still no answer. He pushed the end' button and furrowed his brow. Sydney must be getting fresh air on the porch. He knew he would be too, if he was home with her.

He tossed the phone into the passenger seat next to him and sighed. He would try again in a few minutes, but for now, he wanted to melt into a pool of solitude. Where was Jason?

A/n: Poor Vaughn. Poor Sydney. Poor Jason. Where is that kid? Have a prediction? REVIEW!
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