Info:
- Title: Presages (Part III)
- Author: A. Jinnie McManus
- Rating: PG-13 (strong)
- Spoilers/Timeline: Begins directly at the end of "A Free Agent." All episodes aired afterwards do not apply to this AU story, though some elements have been incorporated. Conversely, all elements prior to AFA, both on and off camera, fully apply to my plot. Spoilers for at least the episodes prior to AFA, and probably most after it.
- Summary: Love both condemns and conquers. AU from "A Free Agent" on. Prominent S/V, but otherwise ensemble fic.
- Disclaimer: Not mine. Some quotes are directly from various episodes. No infringement is intended.
- 'Ship: S/V, J/I, some others.
- Archiving: Ask first.
Chapter Fifty Seven - Return to the Field
Lauren all but fell against the wall, shaking. Oblivious to the alarms, oblivious to the wild melee of agents summoned by Sydney's ambush charging in, she slid down the cool glass and sank to the tile floor.
And then David was there, eyes bloodshot and hair flying every which way.
"I know you were here, and they won't let me in the hospital wing until the building is secured again. What happened? How is he?" the doctor demanded. "Jack must've had Marshall marry my pager to the alarm system here. It's louder than Fourth of July fireworks. Scared the living hell outta me. It's a good thing I wasn't in surgery."
David ceased babbling, eyeing her in confused concern. She hadn't even blinked. "Agent Reed?" Out of habit, he knelt next to her, hand reaching for her wrist.
She pulled away from him, shaking her head slightly. "I told him," she forced out. "And I told him what I made you do."
He leaned away from her, closing his eyes briefly. When she'd come to him with such awful orders, he'd only wanted to help his patient. But he doubted his former partner's son would see it that way.
Tears filled Lauren's green eyes, and she hugged her arms close.
"What did he say?" David asked softly.
She flinched. "I offered… I offered to reverse the effects. Lindsey's fate is sealed once Washington reads my debrief, anyway. It's just caused too much pain, on his part… and yours."
He schooled his face into the most neutral of expressions. "And what'd he say?" he repeated, bracing himself.
"Jack did as you predicted," Katya gloated.
The two sisters stood alone in one of the many rooms of the abandoned building, Sloane and Cole having been told to wait.
Irina crossed her arms over her chest, a faint smile crossing her features. "It's only a matter of time before Sydney comes here," she said to her older sister. "I want to be ready."
Katya played with the gun fixed in her wrist holster. "I very much want to meet my niece," she mused.
Irina remained silent. Katya eyed her curiously. "Is something wrong?"
Irina turned, heading back to the two men. "One wonders," she said as Katya fell into step with her "which niece you're referring to."
"Hi, Sweetheart," Sloane greeted softly, his wife's sleepy tone filling him with pleasure. Lord, how he loved that woman.
"Arvin?" she slurred tiredly, slowly waking up. "How's window shopping?"
They both chuckled at the play on words.
"I'm afraid the store I decided on is out of stock," Sloane answered, deftly moving into another part of the room as water dripped on his head. "But I am having them order out for me. I'll be home in a few days, I promise."
"I love you," she replied.
"You as well," he murmured fondly, picturing her barely awake, phone pressed to her ear. And he doubted she had ever looked so beautiful. "Sleep well."
He entered slowly, stumbling over his own feet. His hands shook. His back remained arched, nerves on high alert for anything out of the ordinary.
Standing in the doorway of what had once been Syd and Francie's apartment, it was all Will could do to not collapse. The place had been tidied, though by the insurance company or CIA, he had no idea. The only sound was his ragged breathing.
If anything, that bothered him more.
Sydney's apartment had always been full of life. And to girls, he had learned, life was loud.
Numbly, his every move a bit behind, Will made his way to the couch and collapsed upon it. He closed his eyes, shaking. In between being a stoic resource for Sydney, and everything with Vaughn, and watching Aaron, he hadn't time to truly grieve.
But now he did.
Shamelessly, Will curled himself into a ball, dully recognizing the two womens' perfumes embedded in the cushions. And then he cried himself to sleep.
Something was different. Sensing the movement surrounding him, Vaughn instinctively kept his eyes closed.
But something was different. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it felt as though a long-standing fog over his mind had been lifted.
For the first time in a long time, he felt like himself.
He'd certainly laid in bed long enough for ten lifetimes. All noise in his room ceased when he opened his eyes and sat up - only to immediately stagger as long-dormant muscles protested against his sudden movement.
But even that felt normal. Stopping him now wasn't lack of will, just simple, ordinary weakness resulting from formerly serious injuries. He couldn't remember a time when he had welcomed such feelings. Did it hurt? Absolutely. But it also made him feel human again.
"Easy, Mike," Weiss said from somewhere next to him. Hands planted on his shoulders, trying to lay him back down. "Relax, buddy. We'll get out of here and let you rest, all right?"
His friend waved his hand in the direction of the investigating agents, dismissing them. They dispersed slowly, Marshall lingering long enough to ensure the cameras were operational before ducking out the door with an awkward wave in Vaughn's direction.
Vaughn shook his head, waiting to remember how to breathe again, which wasn't easy since he had been suffering from, among other things, a punctured lung. His recovery wasn't miraculously sudden by any stretch of imagination. Rather, he felt as though Lauren's previous drugs had prevented parts of his body from notifying his brain they were whole once more. Whatever she had done to him after Sydney's visit was enough to restore lines of communication. Parts of him, like his back, were still far from stellar, but enough of his body was back to how it should have been months ago.
Again, Weiss tried to ease him back down onto his heavily-pillowed bed. But Vaughn resisted the pull, something that immediately caught Eric's attention, rising his hopes. Before, the younger man could barely raise his head on his own.
"Eric," Vaughn started, his breaths gradually stabilizing.
Weiss waited, removing his hands from Mike's shoulders and folding them over his chest.
"I need to speak with Dr. Matthews."
"Can I ask why?" Eric cocked an eyebrow, inwardly amused. Michael Vaughn was either at death's door, or trying to find the most precarious threshold to cross over. There was no in-between. Especially since he had met Sydney.
Vaughn raised his head, meeting Eric's silent challenge unhesitatingly. "Because I want to wear pants again," he shot back, his once-again clear green eyes saying everything else.
Sydney was not accustomed to feeling out of the loop. And she didn't like it one bit.
The sun rose, bathing her in golden rays as she knelt in Emily's garden, tending carefully to the prized plants. Vaguely, she realized what she was doing exuded normalcy. She had spent the last few years of her life wanting nothing more. A spy she may be, but she was hardly an adrenaline addict.
But she did share a few characteristics with her counterparts. Sense of duty, of course, which was why she was here. But most of all, she valued and collected knowledge.
Which was her main problem, she realized. For days, she hadn't had any.
Vaughn's condition had been maddeningly unknown to her. Sloane had disappeared, her mother with him. The Rambaldi weapon remained out of sight. Lately, it seemed every one of her goals was at a standstill. To add insult to injury, Sark had properly moved away from her to accept a phone call, so she couldn't hear it.
She had no doubt her father and Kendall were closely monitoring Sark's conversation back home, but Sydney still blew out a breath, waiting patiently for the right moment to act. I'm not going to sit here and do nothing!
She reached over, carefully tending to one rose a bit out of reach. She could feel Sark's eyes on her and thus spent several more moments playing with the soft, silky petals with one hand, steadying herself with the other.
The sun continued to rise and the air around her cooled slightly as shadows asserted themselves around the garden walls, seemingly caressing her lithe form. Sydney hid a smile. Finally.
Still balanced haphazardly on one arm, her back to Sark, Sydney tipped her free hand toward the ground, allowing the slender black device she had secreted there to slip down and nest in her palm. She then tossed her head, insuring her gleaming hair fell in waves over her shoulders - and hid the dark, wireless earpiece she'd already set in place in her left earlobe.
Growing up, Will couldn't remember a time when he didn't want to be a reporter.
Journalists had always seemed to him more heroic than any comic book drawing. The fictional characters merely ran around in tights, journalists were tasked with doing everything they could to keep the public informed. No matter what they sacrificed in the process.
A lesson he had learned the hard way.
Though his concern for a friend had ended his journalistic pursuits, life as an analyst for the CIA had only sharpened his perceptive capabilities. To the point his brain never stopped turning, even in sleep.
Unconsciously, Will curled in tighter on the couch as his mind worked. Aaron's feverish cries echoed in tandem with his overheard conversation between the two agents guarding the little boy's room. Each memory moved as a snapshot, each frame flowing in a continuous circle of light, speeding up as it went along to create an undeniable connection…
Gasping, Will jerked awake, mind dully cataloguing Francie's favorite perfume as it caressed the thinning couch cushions.
For just a moment, his grief returned. All he could see was her. All he could taste was her. All he wanted was her.
And then, almost as a gift from the outside, his mind cleared. He sat up in one swift motion, his breathing quickening.
Sydney was on a mission to track down Sloane and find the Rambaldi weapon. Until she did, she couldn't come home. She wouldn't come home.
But he knew how to get her home safely. He knew how to find both.
He was a man on a mission.
David moved swiftly through the hallways, with nary a courtesy nod in Amélie's direction. His heart was in his throat. He hadn't felt this way since being sent to the principal's office as a child, and he certainly wasn't enjoying his blast from the past!
His patient was waiting for him, leaning back bonelessly against his numerous pillows. But when David entered, the restored alertness in the kid's green eyes swept over him like an accusing cloud. For a moment, Vaughn's heart monitor was the only sound in the suddenly cramped room.
"You're looking better," the doctor spoke finally, when it became clear the younger man was waiting for him to begin their conversation.
"Normally, I'd thank my doctor for that," came the prompt retort.
Point taken. David hid a wince. He hadn't given Vaughn anything harmful, especially in comparison to Lauren, but he had still drugged the man against his will. And this time, it hadn't been for what Vaughn would concede to be benevolent reasons.
"Was nothing true?" Vaughn cut in, interrupting David's thoughts.
David opened his mouth, then closed it. What he needed to say fled his tongue. He could regain William's son's trust easily, but that would require bringing back demons he had taken decades to bury.
And though he knew Vaughn deserved straight answers, he simply couldn't do so. Blame it on PTSD, blame it on simple cowardice, but he could not say the words.
I'm sorry, William.
So instead he lowered his eyes, allowing a self-deprecating chuckle to escape, watching through thick lashes as the kid's eyes hardened. The moment for truth was gone. Both men knew it would never occur again.
Amélie was accustomed to spending life in the dark. After all, she was the wife and mother of two decorated Intelligence operatives. And she knew that, if she had a choice, she would be like most people and choose to remain ignorant of the world's evils. The barely-hidden torment in William's eyes and the shadows on Michel's face all but ensured that. If it didn't concern her family personally, she was fine not knowing.
She sat on a bench inside Medical, more than a little confused and anxious. Moments before she had arrived, after her son had been reported endangered by an intruder, Agent Reed - the sweet, young agent who had been the only person willing to answer her queries about her son - had simply fled past her without a word. Her eyeliner had run down her face like black tears. It was enough to send chills down Amélie's back.
And then David had headed the opposite direction, towards her ailing son, just as swiftly. Like Agent Reed, he hadn't even looked her way.
Something was happening. And that something concerned her mon petit.
"I keep an extra set of clothes in my bottom desk drawer," Vaughn said, voice utterly conversational.
David sighed. Vaughn wanted them to act as a proper doctor and patient and well, so be it. He was a damn good doctor.
"Look, ki - Agent Vaughn, I understand your eagerness to return to the field, especially after some… mistaken diagnoses were recently discovered," David nearly took a step back at the look of genuine incredulity Vaughn shot his way. Somehow, he stood his ground and continued. "But, and I'm saying this as a doctor with forty years of experience, you're not ready yet."
Cheeks flushing, Vaughn started to interrupt -
"Things go up before they come down," David pressed on. "What and how you're feeling now won't last." He forced himself to look Vaughn in the eyes. "I wouldn't call it withdrawal… but you'll know when your body expects another dose."
But Vaughn wouldn't be deterred. "How do I know you're telling the truth?" he challenged coolly. "How do I know this isn't just yet another NSC manipulation?"
And once again, David found the truth on the tip of his tongue. There was so much the kid didn't know!
And once again, he faltered. Instead, he took a deep breath and stepped forward, leaning against one of the metal sides to Vaughn's cot. What he was about to say wasn't a lie - but it wasn't true either.
Will rose from the couch and nearly tripped over his own feet as he headed for the door, one shaking hand fumbling for his phone.
"Yes, hi," he stuttered, starting his engine. "I know visiting hours are over for the night, but I'm a CIA analyst and I need to meet with Aaron Caplan right away."
They might have replied, they might not. Regardless, Will cut the connection and backed out of the driveway. Tires squealed as he raced to begin his efforts.
Amélie jumped up as Michel's door opened. "David, I understand doctor confidentiality, but - "
Her voice died in her throat. Her son stepped out, straightening his tie, with David following silently. Vaughn looked at her, surprised.
But not as surprised as she was. "What's going on?" she asked warily.
David took a deep breath. He'd grown fond of Amélie. Vaughn may have been his patient but she was a dear friend, and what he was about to say would end that immediately.
Vaughn watched the two of them, noting the pain on his doctor's face and the responding nervousness in his widowed mother. Who had been through hell because of him. The decision was easy to make. "David says I'm not a hundred percent, but I'm getting there," he told her, cutting the man off as he was beginning his confession. "It's about time I started earning my paycheck."
David studied the back of Vaughn's head, swallowing the lump in his throat. It seemed for this, anyway, their intentions matched. Amélie had been through enough. I won't forget this, kid.
"That's wonderful!" Amélie gushed, stepping forward and enveloping her much taller son in a firm hug. She closed her eyes in thanks for the moment, cherishing the feeling of his strong arms around her.
He may not have been telling her the whole truth, that was obvious. But just by holding him, she could feel his restored energy. That was enough for her. "So," she beamed. "What's next?"
He smirked down at her, making no move to pull away. They were alone in the hallway, anyway. "Actually," he answered, looking over her head to David, "is it too late to talk to Aaron?"
The doctor accepted the unspoken truce, checking his watch. "No," he said after a moment. "Why?"
"I have a hunch."
Review Responses
For the record, I'm a horribly mean person and all my readers (meaning youuuuu!) are more wonderful and lovely and good and kind and generous than I will ever deserve. How else can I thank you for your kindness during my…winces… 5 month holiday?
For my American readers, I wish you the happiest of Thanksgivings. For everyone else, I wish you a happy day! And I will see you again before Christmas. If not with this story, than possibly another (see my website in my Profile for teasers).
Also, just a reminder: I'm a paying author, so it'd probably be a good idea to add me to your Author Alerts list. It's free, and it'll make sure you get an email the moment I update here.
You can find that option in the same place you click to leave a review. O÷)
Shawna: :hugs:
Kittyfantastico: Okay, I admit I ended up with several noms and no wins or finalist-ists, but that's totally okay. I mean, the other names are so amazing, I was just touched people thought I could be among them!
Raina: Nope, Lauren tricked Vaughn into thinking he has PTSD with David's help.
Liz9: I updated again! lol. Thanks for brightening my evening with a review!
Kay10197: Yeah, sorry about that. But if it helps, I go through and re-read my own story all the time, too. We can share cushions.
Tine: Thanks so much!
Ilovemypenguin: Did you hear we have an airdate? Jan 5, two hour premiere! And then it will air after Lost.
Daisyduke947: Thanks! And I updated soon…ish!
Sugarqube: Please don't be sad! You know, I should do cliff notes of this thing to help y'all when I disappear. Heh.
Sobee1982: You thought this was a Sarkney? Welllllll, they do kiss… ;) Aaron's dream is very important, as you'll see next chapter. And Sark's thingy (technical term!) does still work, but it's very frustrating to Sydney, since she can't use it. Only those back in LA can. I remember your email, thanks! And yup,To Serve and Protect was me. Glad you liked!
Grouchy: Hopefully not 'cause of my story! (Awful pun!)
kriz-te: She did sneak away, but then she… didn't. More later. Thanks so much!
valley-girl2: I confess, I liked beating up on Lauren, too. ;) Long is one of those interpretive words, right? Vaughn did let her, but the question becomes, with David's warnings, did he make the right decision? Did she have the right reasons? Etc. lol. The teaser is next, I swear.
Babsi: It sounds so mean, but I love it when people say that! Means I'm doing my job! So thanks! :D : Awwww, I love marathon readers. Lemme get you cushion, too.
Amy: Your review seriously made my day. I have a few slots on my LJ open, I'd love to add you. What's your username? Hope springs eternal indeed - especially since I can say, with all my knowledge and with utter honesty, SEASON FOUR KICKS ASS. Can't wait for January!
Heralditalia: Why hello, fellow VTHo! Hee.
Catfishally: You're too sweet, thanks for your kind words! I'm waiting with baited breath to see if you liked this long-overdue chapter as much!
Debz-Hidden-Obsession: It had to do some character stuff first, but now it's back to driving toward the end. Driving fast. I hope!
Fair Cate: Update, as ordered! 785! It's really just mind-blowing, I love my readers so much!
Ginnie: Welcome back to you as well, hope everything with your connection is back to normal! I knew all along. ;) What IS Syd doing with Sark? Teehee.
rainluver : Soon!
Bri: A LOT, YES, MAYBE. :whistles:
oOspuffy4everOo: Ouch, lemme get you a cushion too! Your longest review? I'm honored, thank you!
Until next time…