part II

The October morning sun reached through Will's window and touched his face, slowly rousing him from his inebriated sleep. His eyes fluttered open and were immediately singed by the bright light. Will groaned and shut his eyes again wanting desperately to return to his dream. His head throbbed which left a dull ache in his forehead and temples and the wine left a bittersweet aftertaste on his tongue. He got up slowly and went to the bathroom. Will turned on the faucet and splashed his face with the icy liquid to jar him awake. He ran his hands over the day-old stubble on his face and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was still Will Tippin, only his outer appearance changed. His once unruly sandy blonde hair was shorn short in an attempt to remove any trace of his former life. His eyes were red and blood shot from the wine and his complexion was significantly tanned from working outside all day, another attempt to become his own antithesis. Will dried off his face and checked his watch. It was Wednesday. Miss work or not, he was going to see Sydney. He couldn't live without her. He would use the same lie he told the painter.

Flight arrangements were easy and lying to his co-workers was even easier. Getting out of the state wasn't a problem; months after being relocated Will found someone to make him a fake passport and identity. It cost no small amount, however, in the short time he worked for the CIA, he knew the resourcefulness of becoming another person. It was what he was going to do when he got to L.A. that was the problem. How was he going to find Sydney? Will didn't know where she lived, where she worked or whom she was working with now since he last saw her. But it didn't matter. He threw preparation to the wind before reason convinced him not to go. He was going to see Sydney. Even if it broke his heart.

When night finally fell the next day, he tried to sleep so that he would be rested for his 9:00 am flight, but the later it got, the more restless he became. Will tossed and turned in his bed as each second ticked by bringing images of Sydney closer and closer until Will swore he could touch her. It was four in the morning before sleep finally came to him. Then at 7:30 that morning Will was up and on his way to the airport. When he finally got on the plane, he was thankful to rest his sleep-deprived body shortly after take off. Will napped a little until the stewardesses started to hand out the little in-flight snacks. He conversed a little with the middle-aged woman sitting next to him about the weather and their reasons for flying to Los Angeles and of course he lied. He was good at it. He chuckled at a remark the woman made and turned his head to the seats directly across the aisle from him. Sitting with their mother were a brother and sister, about ten and eight years old respectively, arguing.

"Yeah, huh, there are to spies!" the boy teased sticking his tongue out at his sister. The little girl proceeded to stick her thumbs in her ears and wiggle her fingers around.

"Nuh, uh! What do they look like?" she retaliated. Her brother rolled his eyes.

"They look like people, stupid!"

"Mark!" their mother chastised. "Don't call your sister stupid!"

"Sorry mom."

"Mommy are there spies that do bad things like watch people?" the little girl asked.

"Yes, honey, all spies are bad."

"See I told you!" the little boy interjected.

"What do they look like?" the girl persisted.

"I don't know dear. Just keep quiet and eat your cookies." Will turned his head away. Spies looked like Sydney and Sydney wasn't "bad" as the mother had put it, therefore not all spies were bad. That was Will's logic in Will's world and he supposed, probably in everyone's mind that knew her. Sydney could never be "bad". Will tried to stay awake until landing, but his lack of sleep began to catch up with him and he nodded off. Whatever the plans were that he made once he landed immediately escaped Will's mind once he stepped out of LAX airport. Being back in his old home overwhelmed him, especially with the possibility that Sydney lived with in the parameters of the city of Los Angeles. Will hailed a cab and a pleasant old man stopped and allowed him to get in. He opened the cab door and was greeted by a strong chemical smell reminiscent of Windex, and slid onto the worn plastic seating.

Where to, young lad?" the old man said. Will stuttered for a moment.

"Uh, the beach. Can you take me to the beach?" The old man gave Will a strange look from the rear view and stepped on the gas.

"Sure son." Will watched as the Los Angeles scenery passed by. All the places were familiar yet foreign at the same time. He knew them and never saw them at once, he was both a townie and a foreigner, a resident and an outsider. It was the strangest feeling he had ever felt. When the cab finally turned to the ocean, Will was captivated by the soft waves of the water and the way it glimmered in the morning sun. It had been such a long time since he saw the ocean. He didn't realize how much he missed it. Will continued to stare out onto the horizon not realizing that the cab was slowly coming to a stop.

"Here we are son," the old man said breaking him out of his reverie. Will smiled and continued to gaze out onto the ocean. "Not from around here are you?"

Will turned his head to the old man.

"No," he replied. "Well I was, but now I'm visiting." He turned his head back to the orange and pink sky. The old man seemed in no hurry to kick him out of the cab and Will was grateful for it. He sat there for several more minutes scanning the beach when his eyes happened on a woman running along the water's edge. She was lithe, elegant, and graceful when she ran and wore a strangely familiar running suit. Her brown hair was tied back and swung loosely in the air behind her. But he knew exactly who it was and an electric feeling rushed through him giving him new life and the old cab driver sensed it.

"She someone you know?" he asked following Will's eyes to Sydney.

"Yeah, can you follow her?" He couldn't possibly be that lucky. The old man silently agreed and put the car back into drive.

"Do you want me to drive up so you can get out?" he asked as they approached her.

"No, no, no." Will disagreed. "I don't want her to know I'm in town just yet." So the old man drove on satisfying Will's need to watch. Soon Sydney turned right onto a street a little way from the beach and slowed to check her pulse and the time.

"Stop the car here," Will ordered once the old man got to the corner. He watched as Sydney caught her breath. She was still the same. After two years since he'd seen her, she looked ageless. Not even time could stop Sydney Bristow. More overwhelming then that was that his feeling for her hadn't changed. Time hadn't fill the enormous hole he had reserved for her in his heart. Instead, it had gotten bigger. He watched as she pulled a key from her pocket and entered the house that stood to the left of her. Once the door closed, Will turned back to the kindly driver.

"Uh, can you please take me to the bed and breakfast that's couple blocks from here? I forgot the name, but do you know it?" Will asked.

"Yeah, sure, I know what you mean. The place with the roses out on the front and the white porch?"

"Yes, that one."

"No problem, lad." Once they arrived at the bed and breakfast, Will got out of the cab, paid the cab driver and tipped him generously. The old man was a nice guy. With his one duffel bag, Will jumped up the porch steps and opened the door to the bed and breakfast. He hoped that there were still available rooms. As soon as he entered a young fragile-looking woman with blonde hair greeted him.

"Good morning sir, are you looking to stay with us?"

"Uh, yeah. Have you got any rooms left that face the ocean?" The young girl walked to a mahogany desk seated in the center of the foyer and opened a ledger of all the people staying in the B&E.

"Yes, we do. You're lucky; it's the last room available. What is your name and how long do you plan to stay with us?"

"Uh, Jeremy Williams," Will lied remembering the name on his forged ID. "I'll be staying until Sunday." He watched as the young woman wrote his name in the ledger and handed him a key.

"Thank you for staying with us, Mr. Williams. You are in room seven, It's upstairs, the last room on the right, next to room four." Will took the key and smiled.

"Thanks." He bounded up the stairs and walked down the hall glancing at the little brass embellished numbers on the doors until he reach the end of the hall. Room seven stood to the right of four. He put the key in the lock and slowly opened the door. The room was descent and clean adorned with beach artwork and minimalist furniture. The room was painted a soft blue that matched the covers of the bed and complemented the white trims of the windows and doors. Will walked to the window and pushed back the soft linen curtains to gaze out at the beach. It was a good view. He tossed his duffel bag on the bed and ripped the zipper open to dig out the hard cover journal and a pen. He never wrote when he was Jonah, but when he was Will the urge overwhelmed him.

Will sat at the desk across from the bed and began to pour out his mind onto the paper. He wrote about two nights ago and last night, about his trip and what he thought he was going to do while he was here. But most of all, he wrote about Sydney. "Seeing her again for the first time in almost two years made me realize," he wrote. "That what I was living was never really a life without her. I'm trapped in a life that isn't a life." He dated the passage and closed the journal. He never signed his name and never mentioned names either. He never would.

TBC...

Stay tuned for part III

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