Phantasmagoria
Chapter 3
A/n: You all are awesome reviewers! Thanks! So keep up the good work and R&R this chapter, please. The flashbacks in this one will help you all understand Syd's situation, by the way.
"Sydney, wake up, we've landed." Jack's voice soothingly awakens his daughter. She groans slightly and focuses her vision out the window. Rain droplets drip down the glass, blurring the image of the airport behind them. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, tearing her eyes away. Her eyes are clouded with sleep, and she feels slightly sick to her stomach. The dull beam of the airplane lights lull her into a daze as she watches her father gather their carry-on bags from the overhead compartment.
He offers his free hand to Sydney, who immediately clutches her aching back. She finds it ironic that she had dreamed of such, vaguely remembering driving in a casket-like box. Her back begins to throb as they slowly make their way off the plane, and the pain expands to her head. The baby kicks once more at her abdomen; she bites her tongue, wanting to cry. Where is Vaughn to comfort her in her distress? Where is he to kiss her temple and massage her back?
"Sydney…?"
She glances up at her father, not realizing she stopped herself against a wall. His expression is inquisitive, his eyes asking if she's all right. "I'm okay," she answers him casually, pushing off from the wall to waddle beside him, "just pregnant." She tries to flash him a smile for reassurance but cannot, instead holding a wince from contorting her face.
They approach the baggage pick-up, and Jack finds a bench for Sydney to rest. She pushes her back into the wall in attempt to ease her pain; internally she pleads with her baby to stop writhing inside of her. Before Sydney is ready to stand again her father appears in front of her with Sydney's suitcase, and he helps her up onto her feet. Once again she feels the heaviness of her body slow her usually brisk walk.
At last Sydney finds herself getting situated in her father's car. She hears the slam of the trunk, followed by the opening of the driver side door. Jack climbs in and begins talking while sliding the key into the ignition. "For now, you are staying at my place. And you are welcome there for as long as you need before you find new residency for yourself and…" He allows himself to drift off, casting a quick glance at her stomach.
Somewhat conscious, she brings her right hand to rest over her bulging middle. She expects to go house hunting as soon as Vaughn returns. How she already misses their small Swiss home, creaking stairs and all. She has accumulated so many visions in her imagination there, like watching the baby sleep soundly in the nursery, Vaughn's arms wrapped tightly around her as he whispers about how beautiful and perfect their daughter is. She has imagined many late night feedings, dirty diapers, games of peek-a-boo… All in that nursery, in that house. She almost wishes they would not have to find a new place to clasp those dreams, yet she cannot wait fill that new place with memories.
It is not long before the car stops and she follows her father into an upscale apartment building. They pass the elevator and descend three short steps before stopping at the first door on the left. Jack pulls out his keys, inspecting them rapidly for the proper one, and opens the door for Sydney.
Her eyes wander about, and she wants to explore, however her body takes control and she collapses on the large sofa in the living room. She kicks off her shoes and elevates her feet, relieving her back at last. Her eyes slip closed in the sudden relaxation, and when they contentedly reopen her father's face peers down at her.
"I put your bags into the spare bedroom, it's the second door down the hallway," he points absent-mindedly behind him. "I'm afraid I must leave for work now, though I can return for lunch if you'd like."
Sydney checks her watch, but remembers it is set to the wrong time zone. "What time is it?" she asks, stretching her arms behind her head.
"A little after five," he responds plainly.
Morning, she presumes. She nods at her father in reference to his earlier question. "I'd love to have lunch with you."
He nods at her, and wants to smile. She sees the corners of his lip twitch, however, he cannot bring himself to do so. There is still something in the way he looks at her that stops him.
Sydney hears his footsteps drift away, and the opening and closing of the door. Her stomach rumbles with hunger; she lacks the strength to move. Her back feels sweet alleviation, and her baby girl is finally at rest. Though with the absence of the kicks, her father having left for work, and Vaughn back in Europe, she feels utterly alone.
She heaved the door open with more force than expected. She was ready to beeline to Kendall and ask him a million questions, to hear direct answers, to solve the problem in an hour and move on to bigger and better things. Yet she found herself in the middle of a heated argument between the director and her father, who inhaled heavily and ignored the opening of the door. Beside the two men sat Vaughn, deep in thought, not acknowledging the fight before him nor Sydney's presence.
"How can we consider that an option?" Jack gritted through his teeth. "There are too many people, chances for her getting recognized–"
"Yes, but outside the country, Jack!" Kendall countered, equally angered. "You of all people should see this as the smartest solution."
"Smartest? We need the safest solution, this concerns my daughter…"
A surge of deep rooted confusion took over her. She wanted answers, and she wanted them now. "Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?"
Sydney stood with her arms crossed against her chest, her brow furrowed. The men stopped abruptly, shocked to see her standing before them. Even Vaughn was knocked from his daze.
Jack straightened his tie. "Sit down."
Sydney hesitated before locking eyes with Vaughn. Unable to read the expression on his face, she declined. "I'd rather stand."
Jack and Kendall each moved to their seats before Kendall stated bluntly, "It's Sloane. He's after you."
She wasn't surprised, nor was she sure why this was a big deal. "So I stay here for awhile, until things wash over."
"It's not going to be that easy."
"Then…" She quickly formulated a plan in her head. "We'll lure him in with something… Alert him of a Rambaldi device, that will get his attention–"
"This is no time for sarcasm. I don't think you understand the significance of this situation. We have word that he's waiting to attack. And he doesn't want you dead, he wants you alive."
"Then why was someone trying to kill me at the gas station?"
"He clearly wasn't trying to kill you," Jack concluded. "Merely an attempt to capture you and bring you under his possession."
Possession. Sydney did not like that word, nor the tone in which her father used it. But in all seriousness, she thought they were blowing this out of proportion. They had just brought down SD-6 and the Alliance cells, hadn't they? Sloane could be just as easy… "And I can't simply stay here for a few days until we arrest him?"
"Bristow, this looks long term."
A knot emerged in Sydney's stomach. Long term? She gulped down her fear. "Witness Protection?"
"No," Jack answered this time. "Sloane could easily gain access to that information if he wanted to."
Sydney stepped forward and slid into a chair. They were telling her she had to hide from Sloane. After everything that bastard put her through… Even when she brought his reign of the underworld to an end, he still weaseled his way into screwing up her life. No, she would never run from him. She couldn't. She would face him and his revenge, and she would prevail. But glancing up at the faces of her father and Kendall, she knew that that would not be an option.
Her doubts did not stop her from voicing her opinion. She looked to Vaughn for support as Jack and Kendall shot down her plane of hopes, but all she received back from him was the worried creases of his forehead.
"I have to hide… from Sloane?" she asked after a moment, adjusting.
"Your arrangements are yet to be determined," Kendall darted a look at Jack. "We'll regroup in an hour. But for now, Agent Bristow, you are not to vacate the premises."
Sydney grabs the remote and begins flipping through channels. All the English is a peculiar sound to her. Perfect, correct, unaccented English, like an orchestra belting out Tchaikovsky. She still so distinctly expects to hear German or French tugging at the pronunciation, but it does not exist.
Thinking of the German makes her think of home, with Vaughn. She wanders to the kitchen and presses the phone to her ear, her fingers racing to press the numbers. She is desperate to hear his voice again, to tell him how much she loves him, to hear how much he loves her, how he misses his girls and will see them soon. The rings seem endless, and finally Sydney hangs up. He's not there.
As she sighs her eyes wander the kitchen. She spots a ripe banana bunch resting by the sink, emanating an appetizing aura that makes her salivate. And with a gentle squirm from her abdomen she is reminded how she has not eaten in awhile. After pulling one away from the bunch, she digs her thumb into the top and peels a section of the slick yellow covering halfway down the fruit, then she decides to explore the apartment.
The kitchen is neat and spotless, though dark, the bunch of bananas its only source of radiance. She turns around, walking slowly through the comfortable living room and the background noise of the morning news broadcasters, making her way to the hallway on her left.
As previously told, Sydney finds her bags in a spare bedroom, the second door down the hall. It is a medium L-shaped room with white walls and a warm-looking queen size bed. Immediately Sydney imagines how empty that bed will feel for a few nights until she reunites with her husband. She begins to unpack her clothes into the oak dresser settled into the corner, but before she finishes the shrill ring of the telephone echoes throughout the apartment. She races to the bedside table and grabs the cordless phone quickly, picking it up with her fingers– her knuckles turning white –and pressing it firmly against her face.
Vaughn. It must be Vaughn. Her reasoning lasts milliseconds: no one else would possibly call Jack Bristow during work hours, especially when no one else lives with him. She finally launches her energy in her larynx. "Hello?"
The lack of a response causes her heart to drop. "Hello?" she tries again, somewhat more optimistically. "Vaughn?"
Yet there is no one there, Sydney is certain now; she gingerly places the phone back in the register slowly and draws her arm back to her body. In her sudden melancholy she forgets her half-unpacked suitcase and slinks back to the couch in the living room. There she balls herself into a corner and grabs a pillow to squeeze to oblivion. She tries to accommodate her body to press the pillow against herself, but her protruding stomach obstructs her usual comfort methods and she throws the pillow against the floor in her frustration. Instead she hugs her rounding stomach and burrows deeper into the corner.
Feelings of rage and helplessness swarmed about Sydney, dissolving into the oxygen and suffocating her. She held in her breath for far too long before bolting from her seat and exiting the conference room. She could not leave the building, but damn it, she sure as hell could leave that office.
Her legs took over and wandered aimlessly, her vision glued to the floor, her brain became void of any thoughts. Before she knew it she found herself retracing her steps from earlier, backpedaling to when she did not know. Her legs stopped quite suddenly, and she finally lifted her eyes: she was once again at the prison ward. Briefly she wondered if she should talk to her mother… But no, she lacked the strength to even look at her, let alone speak with her.
Sydney turned around and strolled back slowly, trying to take in everything that had happened. It all began on an SD-6 sanctioned mission to Paraguay. She infiltrated a facility and retrieved the Intel as usual, however this information would directly aid in securing Arvin Sloane a position in the Alliance of Twelve. And while she made contact with the CIA, they discovered they could use it to backfire Sloane's plan, ultimately leading to the downfall of SD-6. This meant that, last night, the Alliance crumbled, leaving Sloane weak, powerless, and with very few allies. They knew it was his agent who had betrayed him, and he knew it was Sydney Bristow. She was his traitor, and for that, she would have to pay.
At that point, someone tugged on her arm, and she turned to find Michael Vaughn's green eyes locking in with hers. She noticed he was out of his daze, and he looked determined, though nervous. He pulled her into a secluded corner of the building where they could talk alone. Sydney leaned against the wall as he closed the door, and it was easily seen that both their minds were jumbled with thoughts, worries, ideas…
"Syd, talk to me…" he urged in a soft voice just above a whisper. "I'm here."
She sighed, running her fingers though her hair to brush it off her face. "I just don't understand how this could be happening. Or really, I just don't believe this is happening." She had been ready to refresh her life here in Los Angeles: one free of lies and deceit, one that included Vaughn. Now that possibility was gone. She would have to become a complete new person in some exotic place entirely alone. Aside from three people, who would know Sydney Bristow existed? Who would say, "I remember her?" Who would she talk to free of lies?
In her worry and uncertainty she slid into Vaughn's embrace, feeling his tender support wrap around her.
"I want to go with you."
She pulled away in shock, not sure she heard him correctly. Looking up for reassurance, his gaze didn't falter, and his brow was furrowed in concern just as before. After further study in his eyes it became clear to her that he had been thinking this move through since he received word of her emergency relocation.
But could she really do that to him? Rip him away from his life, friends, and family just for her? She wasn't sure she was willing to risk his life until she searched deeper in his eyes and saw his genuine care. "Vaughn," she started, but the rest of her words lagged behind. It was all she could say right now. She imagined their relationship building under this intricate web of lies, and how complicated the situation could potentially get. How could they just start over as different people after everything they had been through together? "I… I couldn't endanger you like that." But maybe that was why it just might work.
He cupped a hand to her cheek, then took her hands and held them mid-air, an equal distance between their chests. "I can't imagine having to pretend you simply disappeared. What if this is the end? What if I don't see you for years? I need to have you in my life. After everything, I can't go on knowing I'm not there to protect you, to hold you when you cry, to kiss you when you're happy." He smiled faintly and continued. "You will not go through this alone. Someone should be there for you, let me be that someone. We can do this, we can make it work."
She lifted his knuckles to her face, planting a light kiss on each one, then she snaked her arms around his neck. "You'd really do that for me?" she asked, tears brimming her eyelids.
He pulled her close again. "I'd do anything for you."
A knock at the door startles Sydney, and she quickly composes herself. She lifts the pillow from the floor and sets it back into place on the couch as if nothing had thwarted it before. There is another rampant wave of knocking. Unable to press her body against the door to use the eyehole, she opens the door a crack and squints outside. Suddenly she pushes the door open and throws herself against the person standing in the hallway.
"Francie, I can't believe I'm seeing you." She pulls away in shock, a smile settling on her face for the first time in days. "How did you know I was here?"
"Will called me at work… Your dad told him…" Sydney steps back and takes in the sight of her best friend. When did she see her last? The morning Sydney left those three years ago, and without a proper good-bye. She can remember thinking that she would never see Francie again, and now… "Syd, you're- you're–" Her eyes focus on Sydney's stomach, and Sydney shyly moves her hand to cover her bulge.
"Yeah," is all she can say.
After a moment in silence Sydney welcomes Francie inside, and they seat themselves on the couch. Francie is the first to break the silence. "You were late for dinner, so I called your phone, but you didn't answer. And you just didn't come home… So Will told me about your job, and that you were gone. But neither of us knew what that meant."
"You thought I was dead?"
Francie shrugs. "No one would tell us any details. God, I hadn't heard anything until today."
"Will's still an analyst?"
"Yes, and I finally know the truth about his fake drug addiction. It's still hard to believe everything he's told me sometimes."
She grows quiet in reminiscence, and Sydney readjusts herself on the cushions. "Are you and Will…?" She lets her questions hang.
"Married. Two years this July."
"Congratulations," she smiles sideways.
"I should be congratulating you. If Will had told me you were pregnant I would have lost it. Well, okay, I lost it anyway, but it would have been worse. You know, after Will called me, I called here and you answered and it scared me half to death. Sorry about hanging up on you, I just needed to make sure Will wasn't making some twisted prank." They chuckle. "So you were in Switzerland? Married to Michael from work?"
Sydney nods faintly, instantly thinking of Vaughn. She has now been without him for a day. An entire twenty-four hour period. The longest Sydney has ever gone without seeing him, holding him, smelling his scent over the last three years. "There are so many things I want to tell you, so many things have happened, but I just can't; not yet."
Her friend nods knowingly. "I think we both have a lot to say."
Her fingers begin to burn in dire need to touch his skin. His soothing kiss has not graced her lips for an entire day? Deep in these thoughts, she is buried in her loneliness despite Francie's presence, and her need for him expands. Tears well in her eyes and rapidly spill over as Francie tries to comfort her friend. "I miss him," she whispers into Francie's shoulder.
"I know, sweetie, I know." Sydney feels Francie's hand pat her back as she cries into her shoulder. She had not wanted their reunion to be like this. Unfortunately, Sydney's pain has enveloped her and distracted her from what should be a joyous event. "I'm so sorry," Francie begins to apologize.
"No, no," Sydney stops her through her tears. She wipes at her cheeks, though her eyes continue to water. "I've just never been away from him this long." For the moment, she can no longer look at Francie, and her eyes settle upon her own stomach. Her hand subconsciously comes to rest there. "But we'll be all right," she whispers into the growing silence, her cries beginning to diminish.
After a few minutes in the quiet, Francie digs through her purse for a pen and piece of paper. She scribbles down her phone number, sets the slip onto the coffee table, and tells Sydney to call her or Will anytime she wants to talk.
"Thank you so much for coming," Sydney hugs her friend as they stand by the door.
She opens it, and Francie drifts outside. "I'm so glad you're home," she smiles.
"I'm glad to be home." Her eyes follow Francie's shadow as she disappears down the stairs and into the main foyer. The doorknob slips away from her fingertips and she blinks, startled, as the door comes to a close. Turning around to gaze at her father's apartment, she suddenly wants nothing more than to be with Vaughn back at home in Switzerland.