Chapter 11: New Day, New Surprises

A/n: Thanks a bunch for your reviews! So I'm back from basketball camp early because, guess what, I got sick again. I just got back from getting a blood test because I might have Mono. Sucks, doesn't it? Oh well. Won't stop me from writing.

Disclaimer: Alias belongs to JJ Abrams, but I own Tracy... Good for me.

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Vaughn couldn't recognize himself when he spied his reflection in the microwave the next morning as he poured himself a cup of coffee. It was a strange and unfamiliar sight to Vaughn; dark bags hung dismally under his bewildered eyes, upon a face both gaunt and pale. The light brown patches of stubble had multiplied overnight to create the amateur makings of a beard. His wrinkles stood out prominently. He tore his eyes away and stared incessantly at the tiled floor as he shakily lifted the mug to his lips. He tasted nothing when he swallowed, and proceeded to pour the remainder of the coffee down the sink. Standing in the kitchen and holding an empty cup, he suddenly heard Sydney's voice.

You haven't eaten anything since yesterday, she whispered, her first words in nearly twenty-four hours. You could at least try to manage a cup of coffee. He swung around to face the door, ready to retort in defense, only to find himself alone in the faintly lit room. Great, he thought, now I'm hearing voices. He knew Sydney was awake, though, because she hadn't slept all night. Vaughn had stared down into her blank eyes as the mesmerizing ticks of the clock syncopated with his heartbeat. But she wouldn't be talking to him or joking about his eating habits at a time like this. Vaughn closed his eyes and leaned back, setting the coffee cup on the counter behind him. It was his conscience – Sydney's voice was his conscience.

His eyes darted about the kitchen until he spotted a bunch of ripe, yellow bananas atop the refrigerator. A glow seemed to radiate about them, causing them to seem out of place in the dim kitchen. How had he not noticed them before? As he approached them, he found himself ripping one from the bunch and digging his thumbnail into the stem to peel the rubbery skin down. He bit into it reluctantly, tasting the bland mush leave a smily trail down his throat, but he persisted. When he finished eating the banana, he tossed the peel into the sink disposal and felt a surge of hope wash over him. A newfound strength now empowered him and he knew he would be able to make it through an unbearable day ahead of him.

Vaughn strode to the living room, feeling less of the hope as he witnessed his wife and daughter resting uncomfortably on the couch. Settling his sight on Sydney's morbid form, he contemplated not shaking her from her trance. This trance was the closest thing she had to sanity, to peace, to life, and he could not bare to break her tranquility.

But then again, she needed to face this sooner or later like the rest of the world, even as difficult as the situation was.

He stepped forward with great reluctance and set his quivering hand on her shoulder, rubbing it at first then smoothly joggled it. She blinked, as if waking up from a deep hypnotism, then squinted at Vaughn, the beams of light too much for her dark cocoon.

We have to go in this morning, he whispered, never breaking eye contact. But we'll take Mandy to your dad's first, okay? She nodded twice in miniscule movements of acknowledgment. Vaughn pursed his lips, and brushed her hair off her forehead to kiss it; lingering to rest his forehead against his temple.

Finally, he stood, and adjusted to pick up a sleeping Mandy in his arms. He cradled her head against his shoulder and nodded at a now sitting Sydney: it was time to go.

A solemn car ride to Jack's followed, and Mandy was still asleep when they arrived at his house. He laid her to sleep in Sydney's old room, kissing her cheek before backing away slowly. Mandy groaned for a moment, and Vaughn worried that he had woken her. However, she simply struggled to find his warmth and adapted to the amity of a fleece blanket.

When Sydney and Vaughn were at last in Vaughn's office, Vaughn sat her on the couch, where he hoped she would lull back into her trance. That was when Eric Weiss entered the office.

Mike, all the leads are dead ends. We got nothing. Weiss looked sleep deprived, as if he worked through most of the night. And Vaughn didn't doubt that he had not.

No, not all of them, Vaughn replied. We still have to talk with Tracy and Sloane.

Weiss raised his eyebrows and darted his eyes to the ground. Good luck there...

Let me talk to them. Vaughn whipped his head around at Sydney, desperately hoping that it wasn't his conscience again. Yet Sydney sat very awake on the brown couch, her fingers pressed to the cushion, and eyes raging with fire. I want to talk to Sloane and Tracy.

Vaughn could tell she wasn't kidding; the look in her eyes said it all. If he didn't let her do this, then he would never hear the end of it from her until she went anyway of her own stubbornness. Sydney stood up, looking expectantly between Weiss and Vaughn.

It took Vaughn a moment to collect his thoughts. Okay, we'll go to Camp Harris, and Eric, you stay here in case any contacts get anything new. Call us if you get anything.

Will do, he nodded, scurrying out the door to get to his phones at the other end of the facility.

Sydney marched out the door and Vaughn had to follow her, smirking internally. Sydney was back.

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Well I'd never have guessed I would have the pleasure again –

Save it, you son of a bitch.

They had just turned the corner and already he wanted to restrain Sydney. There was Sloane's cell in front of them – Tracy's was in the female wing. The only difference in his appearance were deep wrinkles in his face and a slightly receding hairline. His eyes still reflected a vile hatred, with a hint of superiority.

Sydney stood feet away from the glass, not wanting to step too close to the monster, afraid of his evil aura. She yearned, however, to be wringing his neck.

The last I heard of the infamous Sydney Bristow was that she resigned from the CIA, he amused himself.

She snarled. It's Sydney Vaughn. But cut the crap, Sloane. You know why I'm here.

Do I?

And, may I remind you, you cut a deal with us that you'll cooperate if we agree not to issue the death penalty. That agreement can be revoked at any time you are uncooperative.

Sloane opened his mouth and closed it again, choosing his words wisely. You don't know Sark's whereabouts. But he has your son, correct? Sydney's breathing increased, her fists tightening at her side. But the problem arises that I am not aware of his location either.

You liar, she hissed, inching forward. You know everything. It's all in the master plan. You've known all along; ever since the destruction of SD-6. You knew we'd take the baby. You knew you'd abduct him at this time. You know what Sark's doing to him and where he's doing it, don't you?

Sydney, I –

Tell me, you bastard! She charged the glass, slamming her fist against it, but Vaughn let her go. He couldn't contain her hatred. You've got nothing to lose but your life by keeping this to yourself, she whispered sharply to him. And I know you're a liar, because you lied everyday to me at SD-6. Every single day. But I've always wondered... Were you lying when you said you thought of me as your own daughter? Because if you – loved – me as you said you did then why would you make me hurt so much?

I meant that, Sydney, I never lied to you about that.

Then don't you dare lie to me now. My son is out there with Julian Sark, and if you don't tell me where he is then those may damn well have been lies all those years ago.

Sloane licked his lips and sighed. I don't know where Sark is. We hadn't arranged a site before I was arrested.

Sydney's cheeks twitched in a struggle to hold her tears back as she shook her head. Vaughn rushed forward and took her hand, pulling her away from his cell. They weren't going to get anything out of Sloane, and they would have to try their luck with Tracy. You... filthy... Bastard! She jerked as she screamed the last word, but Vaughn kept his grip. She swallowed her tears as Sloane disappeared from sight around the corner.

She continued to gain composure as they approached Tracy's cell. Upon arriving, they could barely recognize the once cheery blonde. She had gained weight as well as gray hair and wrinkles. she remembered aloud, her voice raspier than it used to be. Will's friends... From the island.

Vaughn hadn't let go of Sydney's hand yet, he was afraid to. That's right. We need you to give us some information. What do you know about Sark's location as of now?

She glanced back and forth from Sydney to Vaughn quickly. And what makes you think I know?

Because you told me that you knew about the Master Plan.

I did? When?

Sydney clenched her teeth in aggravation. Back on the island, fifteen years ago.

She paused, scanning the ground for a moment. Hey, wait a minute, you're the reason I'm in this stupid prison anyway!

Yeah, and what are you going to do about it?

You won't get a word from me. I haven't talked to Sark since that day you caught me.

Vaughn's cell phone suddenly rang. Sydney looked at him in surprise, and he let go of her hand and stepped aside, pulling the phone from his belt.

Tracy continued. If you hadn't messed everything up I'd be with Sark right now –

We're on our way, Vaughn said into the phone.

– living it up on the other side of the world doing whatever to that kid.

Sydney, we have to go now, Weiss says we just got new intel.

Vaughn dragged Sydney away as she gaped at Tracy, who had yet to realize she had just given away a valuable piece of information. Sydney would have to alert the CIA that Jason and Sark were somewhere in the Eastern Hemisphere.

A/n: Wahoo! Something exciting for once. I was getting sick of all the crying crap. Anger is good once in a while. So let's hope I don't have Mono. I've been thinking about that a lot. I don't want it. Anyway, please tell me your thoughts on this chapter/fic and REVIEW.
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