aricadavidson

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Field of Innocence
Part 2
By Kara B.

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An Alias Story
Rating: PG/PG-13
Summary: Post “Resurrection”
Feedback: Please send! kburne1@yahoo.com

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Please be sure to credit me if you use!

Working Title: Days Go By
Fandom: Alias
Characters: Weiss so far... more will be determined by your votes!
Author: aricadavidson (Kara B.)
Rating: PG-13 so far
Author's Note: In this story I have Eric Weiss as married to an anthropologist named Arica (are-ih-kuh) Davidson (whom I play in an RP, that's where my LJ name came from)
Some minor spoilers for season 3

Written for the choose your own adventure challenge at fandompoolside.

Sorry the first part is so short... but I needed to meet the deadline!

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But For the Grace of God
by Kara B.
© 2002
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An Alias Story

Rating: PG-13

Archival: FanFiction Universe Archive, All others ask before using!

Disclaimer: SUE ME NOT. ME IN COLLEGE. HAVE NO MONEY.

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His Eyes
by Kara B.
© March 2002
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An Alias Story

Rating: PG-13

Archival: FanFiction Universe Archive, All others ask before using!

Disclaimer: SUE ME NOT. ME IN COLLEGE. HAVE NO MONEY.

Spoilers: The Prophecy

Author's Note: This is just a quick little sappy piece that the episode inspired. If it's any good lemme know. *g*

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He said it would be okay . . . but Vaughn wasn't even looking at her now. Did he really believe this crap? Did they all really believe she was destined to destroy everything? The rest of them she could tolerate . . . but him?

How could he just sit there and let them do this to her? Accept this? She could feel tears stinging her eyes . . .

Where were they taking her?

What was going to happen now?

If she was as dangerous as they believed . . . they would never let her go . . . She'd be trapped. How could she be viewed as this grand threat to national security? It didn't make sense.

If they didn't let her go . . . what about her father? His cover would be compromised . . . He'd be dead.

And what about Will and Francie? They would never know what happened to her. She would just disappear.

And how could he just sit there and let this happen? Why hadn't he rushed to find her first? He had claimed to be her friend . . . he'd asked her out . . . he said they'd fix it. How could he just sit there? And why wouldn't he even look at her? Why was he avoiding her gaze? Was he afraid? Of her?

The vehicle finally stopped and everyone else started climbing out . . . all the DSR people. Vaughn caught the arm of the woman who had questioned her. "Let me talk to her alone for a minute."

The woman hesitated.

"Just five minutes. We'll stay in the truck. Don't you have paperwork to fill out anyway?"

Finally, the woman nodded. Vaughn jumped back into the truck, closing the door. He sat beside her, grabbing her shackled hand. "Sydney . . ."

"Why were you avoiding my gaze? You believe this, don't you? You think I'm a threat . . . You agree with them. You're afraid of me."

"Syd . . ."

"Answer the question. Are you afraid of me?" She pushed.

"Of course not." He replied, his eyes staring directly into hers, "I promise you . . . this will get fixed. No matter what. If nothing else, your father and I . . . and maybe even Weiss will get you out. I promise."

She could read the sincerity in his eyes, "Maybe we can run away to Rome . . . and check out that restaurant you like."

"It's a date." He squeezed her hand again, then leaned over and kissed her gently on the forehead. "I am scared Sydney. Not of you, but for you." His eyes were pained, worried, and yes, she could read the fear there too.

"I'm sorry I thought . . ."

"Don't. Don't apologize. I should have been more careful to look out for you. And I don't care what they tell you . . . . but I won't let them keep you here long. I promise you that. Just trust me."

She nodded. She trusted him. His eyes told her everything she needed to know. And in them she could read that he would do anything to keep his word this time. She would be out of here very very soon.

Because of what was in his eyes.

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Clinging to a Saving Hand

by Kara B.

© 2001

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An Alias Story

Rating: PG-13

Archival: FanFiction Universe Archive, All others ask before using!

Disclaimer: SUE ME NOT. ME IN COLLEGE. HAVE NO MONEY.

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Michael Vaughn moaned as he shifted awake. He tried to move, but found himself held fast to a table. His wrists and ankles were tightly bound. He squinted his eyes, trying to remember what had happened.

It all suddenly flooded back. He had accompanied Sydney, secretly of course, on her latest mission for SD-6. His job was simply to keep an eye on her. Someone had seen him . . . and now he was here. He struggled against his restraints and felt a cold stab of fear as they bit into his skin. He moaned, then quickly suppressed it, afraid someone might hear. He was wise enough to know what would likely happen next. And all he could hope was that they knew nothing of Sydney's involvement.

Footsteps echoed down the hall and Vaughn quickly closed his eyes. He wondered if they would know that he was awake. The footsteps stopped outside the room. The door squeaked open and the footsteps slowly entered. His mind went crazy - with fear. These people were worse than dangerous . . . if they knew what he was doing - they'd kill him.

"We know that you're awake." the voice said. Vaughn could hear the laughter in the tone. He slowly opened his eyes. "My name is Sloane."

Head of SD-6 Vaughn thought.

"I'm here to hopefully make this a little less painful for all concerned, Mr. Vaughn. We know that you're trying to get information on SD-6. We suspect you're at least partially responsible for the surveillance link in our database." Sloane leaned over into his face, "We're willing to let you go . . . IF you'll tell us who the double agent is . . ."

Vaughn met his gaze, but said nothing. How could he? A denial they would know was a lie. An admission was unthinkable.

"Come now, Mr. Vaughn, do you really relish pain? Wouldn't you rather go home tonight than lay here and scream and beg for mercy. Mercy that you won't get, I might add."

"My name is Michael Vaughn. I'm an agent with the CIA." he stated.

Sloane smiled and nodded, "I see." He walked back over to the door and opened it. Another man entered, wearing a white coat and pushing a small cart with several nasty looking instruments on it. Vaughn forced himself not to react, but his heart started racing.

The 'doctor' barely looked at him, just picked up a needle. Red fluid filled it. He checked the doseage and then looked to Sloane.

Sloane spoke, "This isn't truth serum. That's really no fun. Besides, since you're CIA, you're probably been trained to deal with that. This little substance will have you screaming within minutes."

Vaughn steeled his mind and took a deep breath.

Sloane leaned in again, "One last chance. Who is our mole?"

Vaughn kept his eyes fixed ahead.

Sloane finally turned and nodded at the doctor, who grabbed hold of Vaughn's arm and carefully inserted the needle, releasing the liquid into his system. He imagined that he felt it spreading out through his body. He began to sweat, whether from fear or the drug he wasn't sure.

"My name is Michael Vaughn. I work as an agent for the CIA." he said again, as calmly as he could.

"Yes, I know." Sloane replied, "Who is the mole? If you tell me now, we can stop this unpleasantry before it begins."

"You can't hold me here. I work for the CIA. When they find out . . ."

"They won't . . . . at least not until you are dead. And we can hold you here . . . and we will. Come on, Mr. Vaughn, be sensible about this."

Vaughn gasped. What had they given him? His eyes went wide.

"We can make this stop right now. Give me a name."

"My name is Michael . . . Vaughn. I . . . work . . . for the CIA . . ." he gasped out. What had they done to him? It was as if he were on fire . . . all over . . .

"No one is coming to help you, Mr. Vaughn. Your only hope is to tell us. I promise, we won't hurt you."

Normally, Vaughn might have laughed at the stupid lie . . . but he hurt too much. "My . . . name is . . . Vaughn . . . CIA . . ." He was on fire . . . burning . . . and burning . . . A scream pierced the room and it occurred to Vaughn that it was his own scream.

He screamed and screamed and screamed. All he knew was that his body was on fire . . . and finally, after an eternity of burning and screaming . . . he passed out into blissful unconsciousness.

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Sometime later, he awoke, still strapped to the table. The burning had gone away, but his body felt numb - probably an after-effect of whatever they had given him.

Sydney was still safe. He had not betrayed her.

"Good to see you've decided to join us again, Mr. Vaughn. Are you willing to talk yet, or do we need to continue?"

Vaughn took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself.

"It's hopeless, but I can see that you need another lesson." The door opened and closed again, and Sloane spoke to the man who had just entered, "Jack, this is Michael Vaughn. He's with the CIA. He's been spying on SD-6. See if you can get him to tell us the name of the mole."

Jack Bristow nodded solemnly as Vaughn opened his eyes. Vaughn looked at Jack and knew that in the minutes that followed, he and Jack were not and could not be on the same side.

Sloane nodded, "I leave you to your work." then he stepped out of the room.

Jack leaned over and released Vaughn's arms and legs from the restraints and helped him sit up. Without warning, a fist met his face and Vaughn fell back. Jack picked him up and hit him again . . . and again . . . He twisted Vaughn's arm behind him.

"Who is the mole?"

When Vaughn said nothing, Jack jerked his arm and a loud crack resounded throughout the cell. Vaughn yelped. His arm was now broken, but Jack twisted it again, "Speak. Tell me."

Vaughn moaned, but said nothing. Jack threw him against the wall, still holding the broken arm behind his back. Grabbing one of Vaughn's fingers, he twisted. Vaughn groaned, knowing what that meant. Seconds later, his fear was confirmed when Jack twisted, breaking the finger.

"The name of the mole."

Vaughn bit his lip to keep from making any sound.

Putting an arm around Vaughn's throat in a choke hold, Jack pulled him close enough to whisper, "I'm sorry . . . can't help you." Then Jack threw him across the room.

Vaughn rolled, but moaned, as he landed on his broken arm.

"Why don't you take some time to think. I'll be back to continue this shortly." Jack said coldly, exiting the room.

Vaughn sat up slowly, cradling his broken arm. His wrists were bloody as well. And so were his ankles, from struggling against the restraints. He immediately took in his surroundings, his CIA training taking over. He surveyed everything in the cell, but there was nothing . . . nothing of any use. Standing shakily, he moved toward the door, grabbing the handle and pulling hard. It didn't budge of course.

Vaughn didn't dare bang on the door - no need to encourage a quick return. He studied the lock - Electronic. He had to enter the correct code. He went to try a random number, but the minute he hit a key, apparently the wrong one, he was thrown back by an electrical shock.

Someone entered the room laughing. Sloane and two 'doctors'. "You really shouldn't be playing with electricity, Agent Vaughn, but since you enjoy it . . ." Sloane gestured to his two men. They may be wearing white coats, but Vaughn had no illusions about their purpose.

They picked him up, pulling on his broken arm. He bit his lip. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction . . . . When he was on his feet, he jerked away, managing to kick Sloane in the process.

Sloane didn't bat an eye as the other two men grabbed Vaughn again, roughly forcing him back on the table he'd been tied to before. They jerked off his shirt and put the restraints back on, with some difficulty, because he didn everything he could to get away. It was futile and because of his struggles, the restraints bit into his wrists again. He winced.

Hang on Vaughn. Hang on. What were they going to do to him next?

Before he could voice the question aloud, one of the men shoved something into his side and his body convulsed, electricity running through it.

Vaughn prepared himself for the second onslaught of pain. He found that this time, he could barely even scream . . . his throat was so bloody and raw from before . . .

Help me . . .

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That door opened again and Vaughn groaned inwardly. They were back already. He braced himself for the first blow.

Instead, cool soothing hands touched his face. He fought to open his eyes, but couldn't. And his throat was too dry to speak. As if the hands read his mind, his head was gently lifted and some cold cold water trickled down his throat.

"Vaughn, can you hear me?" a soft voice asked.

"Sydney?" He moaned, "You shouldn't be here. They'll find out."

The cool hands touched his face, "My father arranged five minutes. But that's all I've got." She paused, her hands gently probing, checking his injuries. "My God, what have they done?"

"Just about everything," he breathed.

Sydney stroked his forehead gently, then leaned down and kissed it, as a mother might a sick child. "Just hang in there a little longer."

He nodded wordlessly, then felt Sydney's arm under his head again. And the cool, refreshing water trickled down his throat. This time he greedily drank. "Sydney?" his voice was hoarse.

"We're working on a way to get you out. Just hang on."

"Sydney?"

She put her hand on his burning forehead again, "Just sleep. There's nothing else I can do right now. I'm sorry. We're trying Vaughn. We'll get you out. Just hang on."

He gripped her hand, clinging to her until she had to go. She had once called him her guardian angel . . . now she had become his . . . his thin threat connecting him to sanity.

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"Can't you just raid the Los Angeles Office or something?" Sydney asked.

"If we do that," Sydney's new handler explained, as if he were talking to a child, "Then we'll destroy everything we've worked for . . ."

"We can't just leave him there." Sydney said harshly, "Considering how much he knows, I'd think you'd want to get him back. I saw what they did to him. He's badly hurt."

"Can your father arrange for you to see him again?"

Sydney nodded, "Probably."

He held out a small container, with a pill in it, "See that he swallows that."

Warning bells went off in her head, "What is it?"

"Look, since we can't rescue him, we need him out of the way. We can't risk exposure." a pause, "It's painless, unlike his current treatment."

Sydney could feel a wave of anger rush over her at his matter-of-fact tone. They didn't care if Vaughn died, only about the Agency and their work. Sounds familiar

"Take it." the agent said, "You'll probably be doing him a favor anyway."

"No. You haven't even tried to help him."

"We can't risk exposure. If it were me or any other agent in there, Vaughn would be having you do the same thing."

Sydney sat there glaring, "Let my father and I see if we can get him out."

"There's not much time. Give him this pill. That's an order."

Not taking it, Sydney stood and stalked out.

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Sydney had told him to sleep . . . sleep. It felt good. He pretended that he could still feel the cool touch of her hand on his head . . .

He jolted to awareness. His shirt had been returned to him, but he was still on that table. He looked up, into Sloane's face. His eyes narrowed. This man . . . had had him tortured, had killed Sydney's fiance, wanted to hurt Sydney. "Why don't you just go ahead and kill me?" he rasped weakly.

"We're getting to that." Sloane smiled, "I just now had the chance to sit down and review your file. I never realized that you had such a fear of fire." (NOTE: NOT CANON - Just makes this more interesting . . . and fun).

Vaughn's heart immediately started pounding. If they knew . . . oh God . . . they'd use it, try and make him talk . . . oh God . . . He gulped.

Sloane had been studying his face and noticed . . . a look of satisfaction crossing his features, "Very good."

"I don't have the information you need." Vaughn said as calmly as he could.

"A shame then. You had better come up with some answers soon."

One of Sloane's men pulled out a lighter, one a person would use to light a cigarette, and flicked it on. It sent another wave of fear through Vaughn's body. Sydney promised . . . hang on . . . Sydney promised . . . hang on . . .

They passed the lighter centimeters from his face. He closed his eyes, Sydney promised . . .

His thoughts were interrupted by sudden heat on his arm. His eyes snapped open . . . heart racing even faster when he saw what they had done. They had set the sleeve of his shirt on fire. His mind froze with panic. "I don't know . . . I really don't."

"Let us be the judge of that." Sloane said.

"Please . . ." Vaughn said, staring at his arm, wincing as the fire burned, "Oh God . . . please . . . I beg you . . ." These people were ruthless . . . they'd use anything.

"If this doesn't get the result you want Sloane, we have one more method. But there won't be much of him left by the time we're through. We'll need to take him to SD-1. We have all the equipment there." They spoke casually, as if his arm weren't on fire, as if his screams and pleas didn't fill the air.

Sloane nodded, "You may transport him tonight."

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An hour later, he was alone again, half his shirt sleeve gone . . and his arm badly burned. The door opened cautiously.

"Vaughn . . ."

"Sydney . . ." She was here. She had promised . . . just hang on . . .

"Oh my God. I'm sorry Vaughn."

"It's okay . . . you promised . . . knew you'd come back." he tried to smile . . . and failed.

She pressed something into his mouth, "Swallow."

He did. He trusted her.

"I've only got a minute." She stroked his face, "That pill will help."

"Thank you Syd . . ." he sighed as he was drawn into unconsciousness, "Love you." he mumbled as he closed his eyes.

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Sydney pulled her knees up to her chest. She was sitting beside her bed, at her house and had been sitting there for hours. What they had done to Vaughn . . . made her hate them all the more. It was disgusting. It was demeaning.

And he was dead . . . at least to them. That's what the CIA thought too. But the pill she had given him only simulated death. Her father had come up with the idea. When SD-6 got rid of his 'body', they had intercepted it, and switched it with that of another dead man.

A scream disrupted her thoughts, and she jumped, running up into her attic. She and her father had fixed up a room there and that's where Vaughn had been. It was dangerous, but, there was nowhere else he could go and be even this safe.

Vaughn was thrashing in the bed they had put up there. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him awake gently, "Vaughn . . ."

He sat up, shocked. "They burned me . . . I was burning . . . Don't please . . . stop . . . oh God . . . I'm scared . . . please, how can you . . . please stop."

"You're safe . . ." She put her hands on the sides of his face, "You're safe Vaughn." She knew that his world had been turned upside down, no matter what kind of training he'd gotten at the CIA.

He took a shuddering breath and stared at her in disbelief, "Sydney?" His voice croaked, "I'm safe?"

She nodded and pulled him into a hug, where he started sobbing, with fear - relief, pain. Sydney said nothing, just rocked him gently, being careful of his arm, now bandaged and in a cast.

After awhile, the sobs stopped and Vaughn sat back up, "Where?"

"You're in the attic of my house. Everyone thinks you're dead, so it's relatively safe. Dad and I fixed it up. You can stay here awhile." She read his gaze, "My father sweeped the house. There are no bugs, amazingly enough. In my car, yes, but not in the house. My father told me he arranged that."

"CIA?"

"They think you're dead too. I'm taking a break from them." He sensed her anger and flinched, "I'm not angry at you Vaughn. They . . . they wanted me to kill you. They only cared about 'the Agency', nothing for you. It reminded me too much of SD-6 . . . and losing Danny."

"Arm?"

"Danny was a doctor, plus I had basic medical at SD-6. I set your arm and finger . . . and medicated and bandaged the burns."

His eyes teared up in fear, "Hate this."

"I know. I know how you feel. You feel violated . . ." she trailed off as he nodded.

"Thank you." he said simply.

She nodded, "You said I could call you anytime. You've been there for me."

"But you saved me." he said, "You saved me." He suddenly leaned over and kissed her.

She responded, kissing him back. When they pulled apart, he leaned in to kiss her again. She put a hand on his lips. "It's too soon. You may not be feeling what you think you are . . . and I'm not quite ready yet."

He looked disappointed, but nodded, understanding, "Sorry . . ." His gaze fell to the floor.

She touched his chin, "Don't be. We just need to take time. I'm not entirely sure this can work to begin with . . . but you need to decide what you want to do first. Now, get some rest. No one's coming over. I took the week off SD-6 for finals. I'll be right here when you wake up again. And we'll take it from there." She stood to leave.

"Sydney?" he called softly, "Stay til I'm asleep? Please?"

She nodded and sat next to him, holding his hand as he drifted off to sleep . . .

"Love you too Vaughn . . ."

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Uncovering the Layers of Lies
by Kara B
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An Alias Story

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Post "Resurrection" – continuation of the final scene

Spoilers: Everything up to "Resurrection"

Feedback: Please SEND! kburne1@yahoo.com

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