Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with or any claim to Alias or its characters – just the creative liberties I have taken with this piece.
A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update this story. I've had a lot going on with frickin' midterms and such. College is a bitch, let me tell ya. I've also been slightly distracted by my HP fic and a sudden inspiration for another Alias fic (my friend Sarah and I are going to work on it over our spring break this week). But, here it finally is. As always, feel free to offer up any suggestions you so desire. Hope you enjoy! Please read and respond!
Vaughn's determined steps echoed throughout the parking garage as he made his way toward his car. More than anything, he knew that he couldn't live another second with Lauren's resilient memory hijacking his brain. He had to get rid of it, to get rid of anything and everything she'd ever brought into his life. An eerie calm settled over him as he got into his car and drove out into the dark, L. A. night.
The normally bright and bustling streets of L. A. were now barren except for the shadows that covered them. Each place he passed held some memory of Lauren. He tried to keep his eyes locked on the road in front of him until the familiar high rise his apartment was in came into view. He was ready to crawl out of his skin just to be rid of the guilt and the betrayal and the pain. He parked on an empty side street and fingered his apartment key as he walked into the building.
The usual doorman was there, half asleep and apathetic to anyone that wandered into the building. Vaughn wasted no time getting to his apartment and had the key poised to open it when he reached the door. Everything was still in the same spot they had left it in. Guess no one's home. He thought, bitterly. He took no time reminiscing. He was on a mission, a mission that for the sake of his sanity and his survival he must complete without fail. Pulling a suitcase out from underneath the bed, he emptied his dresser and his nightstand of the only things that remained necessary in his mind. He almost made it all the way through without seeing her face, but he made the mistake of letting his eyes drift up while he was closing the brimming suitcase.
On her nightstand sat a picture, a farce of happier times. The eyes of the blissful couple in it glared back at him, daring him to come closer, to really look at what his life had been, his life without Sydney. Vaughn stomped over to it and swiped it fiercely into the wall. He looked down at his hand as if he had just performed some great magical feat. For the first time, he looked around, seeing how much of Lauren remained around the apartment. He slammed the suitcase down by the front door and made his rounds, smashing everything that held any trace of her in it. One by one, he knocked all of the pictures and all of the sentimental trinkets down like dominos that shattered into the pieces of his broken life. He ripped all of her clothes out of the dress and littered them around the apartment. He didn't stop until everything she had ever owned was on the floor.
Without even a second thought, he charged into the kitchen for the lighter fluid he kept under the sink. Vaughn hesitated and stared at it resentfully as he remembered the picnic they took on their first anniversary and he tried to use the Hibachi. Blinking it away he doused all of the debris that covered every inch of the place that he once thought was his home. Grabbing the book of matches kept on the stove, he lit one and watched in slow motion as the chain of lighter fluid ignited.
Vaughn wasted no time thinking about what he had just done, but hurried out of the building just in time to here the fire alarm go off in the building and the sirens start up a few blocks away. As he started his car and drove off, a small, but noticeable smile crept its way to his lips.
Weiss grumbled audibly as shut his alarm off. Blinking his eyes several times, he forced himself up. As he reached the bathroom door, the thick, sleepy fog that clouded his mind began to thin and he remembered that Vaughn was still asleep on the couch. He yawned apathetically and turned back toward his bedroom door.
"All right, Dude. Time to face the firing squad. Get u—" Weiss looked quizzically down at the crumpled up blanket and the empty couch. "Ok, so apparently I'm talking to myself." Shaking his head, he turned back toward the bathroom to shower and get ready to go into the office.
As he shuffled around his apartment, his mind wandered from what he was doing to why Vaughn had left so early. Granted, Weiss was a heavy sleeper, but he knew he would have heard him if he had gotten in the shower. Nobody could sleep through the racket the pipes made. He knew the Vaughn was a big boy and could handle himself, but something felt…off to him. Grabbing his suit jacket and briefcase, Weiss shook off the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach and headed mindlessly out the door toward the parking garage.
ooo
After braving the devilish Los Angeles morning traffic, Weiss walked fully awake into the guarded building, robotically making his way past all of the security checks. Situating himself at his desk, he tried not to jump to any conclusions at the sight of Vaughn's desk across the room, uncluttered and seemingly untouched.
After five minutes, he couldn't stand it anymore. He dialed Vaughn's cell phone: it went straight to voicemail and he frowned at his phone as he closed it. Looking up, he was greeted by the unsmiling, sober face of Jack.
"Hey, Jack. What's with the face?" Weiss smirked to himself as the elder Bristow looked at him.
"It's too soon to make any conclusions, but Vaughn is missing." Weiss' face fell as his suspicion was all but confirmed.
"He didn't show this morning for his debriefing with Dixon. Sydney's on her way in, but she said she hasn't heard from him." Jack gazed at him, expecting an answer to his unasked question. Weiss shook his head before he spoke.
"He was at my apartment last night when I got home. When I went out to wake him this morning at six he had already left. I don't know when he took off. I didn't hear him leave." Weiss mentally cursed himself for not acting on his instinct. Jack nodded at him.
"We'll keep trying to find him then. If you remember anything or have any idea where he went…" The end of Jack's sentence was swallowed by the uneasiness of the situation. With a flat confirmation from Weiss, he watch him walk back across the room and into Marshall's office, frantically racking his brain for anything that might bring to light where Vaughn was or why he left the apartment so early.
Marshall muttered quietly to himself as he reread his "to do" list for the day. No matter what, he had to make it home on time that day from work. As he began mentally prioritizing the list, Jack Bristow ventured noiselessly into his office.
"Well hello, Mr. Bristow. I don't normally see you in here this early in the morning. By in here, I mean in my office not in the office in general. I'm sure you get here before I do. It's just—" Unphased by his typical babbling, Jack interrupted him.
"Marshall, I need you to do a thorough scan of all of the controlled city radio networks to see if there's anything unusual. We're looking specifically for something that could be related to Vaughn." A noticeable surge of involuntary panic went through Marshall as he listened to Jack.
"It's too soon to start worrying about him too much, given the circumstances. But just to be safe, I'd like you to run this check now. Let me know right away if you find anything."
"Of course, I'm not worried." Marshall swallowed the nervous lump that was growing in his throat. "I'll let you know if I find anything." With Marshall's affirmation, Jack said a hasty thank you and goodbye and left.
Marshall turned quickly back to his computer and began searching all of the activity logs from the LAPD, LAFD and all of the local emergency rooms. Despite the chaos it added, he began streaming both the police and fire department radios at once, listening intently for anything relevant. He knew he didn't know Vaughn incredibly well, but he knew enough to know that the man never missed an appointment without explanation. He also knew that, no matter the agent, it was never a good thing when one went missing.
After fifteen minutes staring almost unblinkingly at his computer screen, Marshall zealously leapt from his stool, catching himself on his headphones. He threw them hastily across his desk and hurried out of his office toward Dixon's where Jack was. Not bothering to knock, Marshall whipped open the door, causing both men to look over at him.
"There's been a fire! The Los Angeles Fire Department recorded a call that came from an alarm early this morning just before five. No one was hurt but they haven't caught the person that set it." Marshall rambled, breathlessly.
"Marshall, what does that mean? Where was the fire?" Dixon asked, patiently.
"Oh, right, sorry. It doesn't say exactly what apartment, but the fire occurred in Vaughn's building." Marshall jumped as the panicked voice of Weiss came from behind him.
"A fire? Jesus! Does it say how it was started?"
Marshall looked at him somberly.
"Arson."
Thanks to the couple of you that read this fic and to alllieee for her kind review! Please read and respond; I do so enjoy getting those review alerts!
Thanks all,
Mel
