Chapter Three

Vaughn was leaving the JTF building feeling more alive than he had felt in months. He felt as though he finally had a purpose again, he was so close to getting Sydney back. No matter what Kendall said about her Project Christmas programming, he believed it was real and reliable.

Sydney was still there even if she was a little buried in Julia Thorne. The name still gave him shivers; he hated to think of the torture that came with brainwashing. The sensory deprivation, the electric shock, the withholding of food and water. Sure Sydney had been through a lot, but if she had gone through that, Vaughn had no doubt Sydney might be changed. How changed, was the question he was asking him self as he navigated his car through the night to his apartment.

When he came in the first thing he noticed was the lack of Laurens things. Her purse, keys and shoes were gone. She should be back from work by now. For a moment he was relieved, he didn't know how to deal with her. She was a nice girl, everything he had once wanted in a woman. She was normal, from a good family, she even had a normal desk job with NSA, and she was the official liaison between the NSA and the CIA, so there would be no need to secrecy as there had been with Alice.

Maybe the reason he had fallen her was because she had never minded when he talked about Sydney. She had helped him, even took him to see Barnett when she had realized he was talking to his dead girlfriend. She had removed all the alcohol from his cupboards, made sure he didn't go to the bar on the corner. All in all she had been the perfect friend, and then two months ago something changed.

One morning he woke up and Sydney was gone, really gone. She wasn't in bed beside him, of course some part of him knew she had never been there in the first place but the illusion of her had been so real. He usually woke up and started the day by asking her how she slept, in the first months after her death she responded readily every morning. But as he became sober and happier her voice faded until he woke up one morning and a new voice answered him, a British voice.

Instead of Sydney's brown hair there was a blonde in his arms. He had become distressed, run outside and tried to hear her voice. But she was silent and she didn't answer his calls. Lauren found him hours later sitting in the warehouse where he had held many secret meeting with Sydney. He had spent five hours trying to hear her, picture her in his head, but the image was fuzzy, the details smudged, her voice forgotten.

Lauren had stayed with him, and he had become happy with her, they lived a good life. He hoped she would understand, but whether of not Sydney came back with him, he was going to leave Lauren. He couldn't be with anyone as long as Sydney was alive, he belonged with Sydney.

Still confused as to why she was gone, he entered the kitchen and poured himself a coke. On the fridge was a note:

Michael,

I got a call from Lindsey and he wants me in Vienna for Sloane's last debrief. I should be back by the end of the week. I wont be able to call, he has me staying in a secure location.

xoxo,

Lauren
P.S.

Don't forget to pick up the laundry and it is your turn to do the dishes:)

Her handwriting was loopy and there where little hearts over the i's. He sighed; she would be gone for a week. Kendall had promised to call when he had a way to get him in. He hoped he would be gone before Lauren would be back, he couldn't think of how to explain the situation to her.

Vaughn picked up his coke and headed into his bathroom and opened the closet, on the top shelf there was a box with Sydney's things that he had salvaged from the fire. He pulled it down and went back into the living room, turning on the stereo on the way. He sat and opened the box, taking out a picture of her. This was the way he spent most nights on his own, but tonight was different. He didn't feel the usual despair, but tonight he felt a glimmer of hope for the first time in ten months.

Examining the pictures he realized how truly different Sydney had looked in the new pictures. She had looked more relaxed, even more dangerous. It was something in her eyes that looked unfamiliar, and that scared Vaughn. Through everything, Sloane, Noah, Irina, and even through Danny's death, Sydney had retained a sense innocence about her, and that was what the pictures lacked; innocence.

The music grew heavy; as did his eyelids and Vaughn's mind turned to the night he had lost her. It wasn't a place he let himself go anymore, but with the knowledge that she was alive it seemed ok to explore that memory.

It had rained that night when he got a call from a frantic Weiss, he had been crying but for a minute Vaughn hadn't recognized that hick in his voice as a sob. All that his best friend said was, "Get to Sydney's apartment, there's been a fire."

Vaughn had never considered that Sydney could be more than hurt, maybe a little bruised and burned. But that all changed when he had arrived at the scene everyone was moving in slow motion. He remembered calling out for Sydney, screaming her name, trying to find her in the crowd gathered outside the burned down apartment.

At first he didn't realize that she had been in the fire, but as soon as he saw Jack he knew. Jack had looked sick, no longer stoic but a man lost in utter despair; at that moment Vaughn had realized something was really wrong.

He had ripped past the police and run into the smoldering house, everything was filled with soot and water. The roof was almost gone, the walls had all but collapsed, and it was in absolute disarray. Still he had called, "Syd… Sydney?"

He had run to where her bedroom had been, and his heart died right there. CSU had taped off the area and a slender man and woman in green 'LAPD-CSU' jackets where gathering what looked like ashes… Sydney's ashes.

He hadn't noticed that he had fallen to the floor until Eric found him moments later. He still had tears in his eyes, which where now mirrored in Vaughn's.

He had pulled him up and carried-dragged him out of the burnt remains of the house. Outside Will had been placed on a gurney, blood seeping from his abdomen. He looked pale and near death, but motioned for the paramedics to stop as Jack approached.

Vaughn was just close enough to hear, "Francie was the second double. She tried to kill me…" he stopped, coughing violently.

Before Eric could restrain Vaughn he charged after the gurney as it began to move towards the ambulance, "Where is Sydney?"

Will grimaced, "I don't know what happened. Franc…. The double stabbed me and I was in the tub… they crashed in later, but I don't remember anything else." He coughed again and this time the paramedics moved and refused to stop for further questioning.

Vaughn wanted to run after him, but this time Jack stopped him, "They've confirmed the ashes inside belong to Sydney and Francie." This didn't sound like the legendary Jack Bristow, he sounded defeated.

After that the rest of the night was a blur, everything had happened too quickly to comprehend. The media was fed a story about faulty gas lines, more tests were run on the remains, which were too badly burned to even do a dental comparison.

The only clear thing in his memory was the grueling task of going through the house searching for anything that had survived. There was a sweater, a few guns, a hairbrush, a few odds and ends, a treasured box of photos, her diary (though it was mostly unreadable due to fire damage), her mother's amiable earrings, and the charred remains of a first edition of Alice In Wonderland.

Then the days and weeks blurred with the help of drink and pills. With his head heavy and eyes closing Vaughn stretched out and escaped into a dream filled sleep.

The bed underneath me was soft and warm, opening my eyes I saw the woman I loved. Everything was right, the way it was supposed to be. Sydney was laughing, her bedroom was filled with the soft morning light. Beautiful colors filled the room and then my vision flashed.

I was standing at the altar in a skillfully decorated church, dressed in an expensive tux. Music wafted through the air, the bridal march. I felt myself smile, my first genuine smile in a long time. And there she was, walking gracefully on Jack's arm, even he looked happy. The dress she wore was long and marvelously embroidered, her dark hair up in a bun with stray wisp framing her face.

I felt my happiness surge; I was filled with content and utter peace. Now I was holding her hand, slipping a gold band onto her delicate hands.

I bent to kiss her and when I drew away I was starring at a different woman. It was still Sydney, but changed. The church is deserted, her brown hair had gone and was replaced by blonde strands; the dress had turned into black tactical gear. And her hand, which had been in mine only second ago, held a gun pointed at my chest.

"Sydney?" My voice sounded hurt, tears standing in my eyes.

"Sydney is gone, you gave up on her!" The voice didn't belong to the Sydney I knew, it was filled with hate and anger, not one touch of compassion.

Then without a blink of an eye she pulled the trigger and I felt my body burn. Such unbelievable pain erupted in my chest and lungs. The black light flashed and my vision turned black and white all color gone from the world. She stood there, leaning over my body smiling with malice.

She turned and left, meeting a tall man dressed in black at the door. Taunting me she turned back and winked, then kissed the man with all her strength. I was left on the floor of the church bleeding to death. My vision went black.

When I opened my eyes I stood in the middle of a deserted beach, still in my tux soaked in water, drowning on dry land. My vision blurred but for a moment I could see my friends surrounded me. Eric, Dixon, Jack, Marshall, Carrie, Kendall and even Lauren stood near me. But no one moved to help me as the tide rose and I felt myself pulled toward the water. In that moment of panic I recognized the place, it was the Santa Monica beach where we had scattered Sydney's ashes.

As I fought to stay on the beach I screamed for them to hear me to help me, but instead Lauren moved, and from a ceramic jar threw ashes into the wind, my ashes. I was at my own funeral.

Again I tried to scream but the wind stole my voice and I was lost in the horror of it all. I was so close, why didn't they look at me, see I wasn't dead. I was ten feet away; those couldn't be my ashes. Breath came in harsh gasps; it was almost painful to inhale because the air I breathed wasn't air but water.

Then I was pulled toward the surf, struggling against the surge of the waves, which broke on my shoulders and back. The undercurrent grabbed at my arms, hauling me under the water, taking me into the deep of the ocean. Glancing back to shore I witnessed everyone I love leave, one by one, until I was left alone to battle with the arms taking me to the deepest regions of the sea.

The water guided me and when I was in the deepest ridge of the ocean I saw a castle of black. The doors where opened for me, almost magically. And there inside, on the Throne of the Deep sat Julia Thorne, with her male consort.

Her long gown of the darkest blue hugged every curve; her hair was long, to her mid back, and so black that it was almost sapphire. Even her eyes, once brown had become bottom less black ravines, her skin a transparent white.

She spoke but didn't use her mouth, "Welcome to my Kingdom."

That voice sent shivers down my spine, so deprived of life it was. I had no response, which made her smile, a hideous smile. She had lost none of her perfection but death was immersed in that smile.

She stood and glided to me like a wraith, taking my hand in her freezing ones, "Follow me, I must show you the truth." I nodded and followed down steep stairs, and through deep dungeons. Until we came to the center of the palace, there in the core was a glass tomb.

"I can go no farther." She stopped, but pushed me onward. I didn't look back as I walked to the crypt. I came to it and looked down, drawing in a sharp cry. Sydney lay there, frozen in the glass sarcophagus. She looked dead, but something told me she still lived.

"The truth is buried, but not lost; it is hidden but not forgotten; it is trapped but not powerless, it is frozen but never dead." Julia's voice rang out in the enclosed chamber, as clear as though she stood right next to me.

Finding my voice I turned to the dark queen, "Why do you fear her?"

"Because she may be dead to the world but not to love." It was an honest statement; I couldn't find it in my heart to resent this sinister woman. So I nodded and walked to her, taking her icy hands in mine.

The Queen of Hell turned her face up to mine and gave me the kiss of parting with her lifeless lips.

Vaughn woke up with a start; the dream fresh on his mind, body coated in a cold sweat. Breathing deeply he jumped when he heard his cell phone ring from the bedroom.

Hoping up he jogged to the dresser, and picked up.

"Vaughn."

"Agent Vaughn, this is Kendall. Pack your bags your going to Paris, and stop at JTF. Marshall and I are waiting for you to go over the mission specs."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Good."

Vaughn hung up and ran a hand through his hair; looking at his watch he shook his head. It was three in the morning, another night of little sleep. He walked to the shower and turned it on, hot water streaming from the showerhead assaulting his back, trying to forget the disturbing dream.

It was already fading, and the scraps that remained made little sense. But the feeling of darkness and hopelessness remained in the pit of his stomach.

After the shower he grabbed a small duffle bag, and packed the essentials. He was almost out the door when he realized that if Lauren got back before he did she would find it strange that he had left without leaving a note.

Taking out a pen he wrote a quick note,

Recon Work. Talk to you when I get back.

Vaughn