Disclaimer: I don't own anything ALIAS; that privilege belongs to J.J. Abrams whom I hope does not abuse such a wonderful opportunity.

A/N: I'm basically cutting out the last three to four minutes of 'The Telling' just because I can. I have been threatening to write this for a while so here it is. Just assume the story picks up after Sydney passes out in her bedroom. Some songs will be incorporated into the story because in many cases they were my inspiration. ENJOY!!!!!

SYDNEY'S HOME - LOS ANGELES

Vaughn had turned around after dropping Sydney off, when he realized she had left her wallet in the car. He knew he could have given it to her while picking her up for Santa Barbra but the chance to see her before that was too tempting.

Every light in the complex was on, giving Vaughn an eerie feeling when getting out of the car. The feel of his gun holstered at his hip reassured him momentarily yet it did nothing to calm his nerves. A neighbor of Sydney's opened his door to the sound of Vaughn's footsteps.

"I thought you were the police." He commented.

"Did you call the police for help?" Vaughn tried to look past the man, into his apartment to determine if anyone needed assistance.

"There was a commotion down the hall so I called the police. They should be here any minute now but I would be careful." The man indicated Sydney's door with his chin.

Vaughn felt his blood run cold and his body still uncomfortably. "Stay inside your apartment until the police arrive." He told the man then withdrew his gun and held it carefully at his side.

"Is that thing registered?" The man was beginning to irritate Vaughn causing him to ignore his last question.

Vaughn placed his hand on the door handle and turned it gently. The door yielded to his actions and opened easily. Despite being completely quiet, the apartment was a mess. Vaughn walked slowly to avoid injuring himself. He picked his way to the bathroom where the door's hinges were no longer existent.

The body in the tub made his heart jump into his throat. Vaughn immediately recognized Will and moved to his side to check for a pulse. The blood saturated by his cloths must have looked worse than it was because Vaughn felt a subtle thumping against his fingers at Will's neck. Relief washed over him and he quickly grabbed towels from the cupboards and tied them around Will's waist to slow the bleeding. With a few more blankets Vaughn covered Will to ward off shock induced chills.

Once Will was taken care of, Vaughn allowed himself to ponder the fate of the others in the home. His eagerness to get to Sydney was tempered only by the sight of both their friend's near death state. Vaughn followed the trail of destruction to Sydney's bedroom and found a nightmare.

Laying closest to him was Francie's prone and bullet ridden form. From the angle of her neck and lack of movement Vaughn quickly surmised she was dead. However, directly in front of him was the object of his greatest concern.

Feeling as though he was walking through water, Vaughn made it to where Sydney sat half propped up, against the wall. The gun that had likely killed Francie was still grasped in her hand but her eyes remained closed. With shaking hands Vaughn checked for a pulse and with much relief found one that was slightly thready but otherwise solid.

Vaughn let out a load sigh then took in another sharp breath. "Syd." He called to her as he held her face. "Syd, come on, open your eyes." Her head lolled to the side and into Vaughn's hand. Sydney struggled to open her eyes and held the gun a little more tightly.

"Syd!" Vaughn said with a smile when her unfocused eyes finally met his fearful ones.

"Vaughn." She whispered. "Francie not her. Allison." Vaughn looked confused at Sydney's ramblings but his 'What' was met with the entrance of the LAPD.

"My cell phone." Sydney said before she lost consciousness again.

"Hands in the air." Was called from behind Vaughn. With reluctance, Vaughn moved away from Sydney and raised his hands.

He was surprised the CIA had not intercepted the police call when Sydney's residence had appeared on the scanner; however, he was not given time to ponder as the police advanced on him.

"Drop your weapon." The same cop stated.

Vaughn looked down and saw that he still held his gun at his side. "Listen, I'm going to put down my weapon but you have to listen to me. I work for the State Department and two of the three victims are my colleagues. I just arrived here and was told by a neighbor that you had been called. They need medical assistance immediately." Vaughn placed his weapon on the ground and was instantly assaulted by two cops who patted him down. They removed his identification which had his security clearance for the State Department as cover for the CIA.

"He's for real." The man holding his ID said.

Following that announcement another group entered the apartment barking orders. "We've got this. You can go." Paramedics rushed to Sydney and strapped her to a gurney.

"Who the hell are you?" One of the police men asked.

"FBI. This is a state sensitive issue; it falls under our jurisdiction." The LAPD tried to put a fuss but were shooed out of the apartment and away from the building. "Agent Vaughn?" The new arrival asked.

"Yes. Are you Agency issue?" Vaughn asked.

"We are. What happened here?" The man asked.

"I'm not certain. I came in only minutes before you. But by the damage and its path I would guess that Sydney was fighting with someone. She said something about her cell phone." Vaughn scanned the floor looking for the device and found it by the far side of the bed. He hit the talk button and found a saved message from Will.

After listening to the message, Vaughn turned back to the man looking stunned. "The deceased woman and Sydney fought; Sydney shot her. The woman is likely responsible for the Will's injuries." Vaughn moved to Sydney's side as the medics assessed her condition.

"Will is the stabbing victim?" Vaughn nodded in agreement and looked to the medics for answers.

"Extreme exhaustion, dehydration, minor blood loss, shock and a concussion. You said she was conscious not too long ago which is a good sign. We're taking both of the injured now." Vaughn began to follow them out.

"Take the body to the CIA and ear mark it for exploratory toxicology and pathology and call Jack Bristow at the Joint Task Force and let him know where we'll be." Vaughn ordered before leaving the apartment altogether.

ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA

Irina watched the subtle movements dance across the grainy black and white screen before her. With tears in her eyes she brushed the glass with her fingers before shutting the picture off.

She leaned back and was unable to close her eyes before one tear escaped. No attempt was made to wipe it away. Irina was determined to wear the tear in hopes of finding forgiveness for her poor decisions and short-comings. She had another obstacle to overcome in the battle that was her life and this time she was going to come out on the right side, if only her plan would work...

Please Review (-: