Summary: Sequel to 'Dernière Journée en Mer'. Vaughn's sister seeks Weiss' help after her brother's death. Weiss, in turn, talks to Sydney. Angst. Weiss' POV.
Rating: PG because of a colorful word. But a tiny one… Only four letters.
Disclaimer: Alias' characters and situations aren't mine; please, don't sue! I mean, I have €88 at the bank, and I have that €85 bill to pay before Friday, and I don't wanna go to jail, and… *starts wailing*
A/N: First of all, a huge, huge thanks to all the people who reviewed my other fics. I never expected to receive much feedback… You guys are amazing. I wish I had the time to thank each of you individually; however it's not possible, so…
*starts hugging aaa, purpleblue, iceskatebaby, nightmaiden, freedoms, lanabana, snosamie6, ProvidenceSea, AME, Egyptian Kat, charmedgal005, Sharon, Cara, Fianna-Garou, Agent Otter, Elicia, Rachel, Sarah, Ryanne, banana, nattie700, sheepo, Jillian R , and also Glittering Pegasus, niterockstar, jhfortier, Jennifer Campbell, nana, Kwayera, SpookyAnne, Lainie, Kylie, star, Kiki, Pyra, andy, Ez, chele, Maea, Ruli, AnnaSun, javabookie22, aliaschick4mv*
May the Vaughn be with you! Always!
Anyway, some of you wanted a sequel. I never intended to write one, then this came out… (The blame is put on the blasted-cornea-problem-that-has-been-driving-me-cr azy. I want to wear contacts again, damnit! Glasses are evil, and heavy, and ugly, not to mention the pain it is to put make-up on when you're too short-sighted to see your face in the mirror, and… Okay, the babbling is over =D)
There will probably be a last sequel where Syd and Vaughn's sister eventually meet. It may not come out before some time, though. If anyone is interested in beta-reading, please, let me know =)
Thank you for reading!
"Eric? It's… It's Emilie."
Eric Weiss paused at the sound of the pain-filled voice on the other end of the phone. He had expected her to call sooner or later. He had tried to prepare himself for that, but there were things one could never be ready enough to face.
"Hi. How have you been?" he asked softly. He should probably have come up with something sounding a bit more… concerned, but he just couldn't.
She laughed sadly. "I've been better. I… I miss him. So much. I'd never thought it would be so hard."
His lips curled into a bitter smile. "I know what you mean."
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Well, actually, there is." Here it'd come. The moment he had been dreading for days. Ever since he had seen her stare at Sydney, at Vaughn's funeral. "I… I went to Michael's flat yesterday. To… start…" Her voice broke. "I… There were clothes in his closet. I was wondering if you could tell me who they belong to. Or, if you can see if she wants them back? Or… anything."
Weiss closed his eyes. "He never even told you about her, did he?" he breathed. He only realized he had spoken out loud when she answered.
"No." There was a strangled sob in her voice. "He never talked about his job, you know. It was… But this, it's not like him. Why would he hide that, why, is she… ?" Emilie had always been one to make fully constructed sentences. Mike's sister was someone Weiss had always perceived as being coherent, for lack of a better word. She was clever, educated; but right now, he only perceived her as heart-broken.
He could only imagine what he would feel like if his brother went to die. Losing a friend was hard. Losing Mike was very painful. Discovering your dead brother had been lying to you about basically every aspect of his life… He did not wish his enemies to feel that pain.
"Why didn't he say anything, Eric?"
Because her mom has killed your dad.
Somehow, he didn't think she needed to hear that particular piece of information at that moment.
"I shouldn't be the one to answer that." No. He shouldn't be. It was Mike's question to answer. But Vaughn was…
"It's not like there's anyone else left to answer it, is there?" He could hear the barely controlled anger behind her words. She was mad. She had every right to be mad. "Unless she…"
Weiss sighed. "It's got to do with classified intel, Emilie."
This time, the sob was distinct. "Of course. What in his life wasn't classified intel?"
He didn't know what to tell her.
"I went to the cemetery, after… Yesterday, I mean. There was this man, talking to his grave… Her name was Sydney?"
He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "Her name is Sydney. She's worked with us for a couple of years. That's all I can tell you Emilie, I'm sorry."
Because her mom has killed your dad.
"Why did he have to die?"
He had apparently misunderstood the question. He wished he hadn't. He had an answer to the question he had understood, even though he couldn't tell Emilie about Irina Derevko. He had no answer to the latter. His friend shouldn't have died.
He could hear Emilie's soft cries, and he knew he couldn't handle her pain.
"Look, I'm sorry, really, but I have to get going. I'll talk to you later, okay? Be brave."
Coward. He hung up without waiting for her answer.
He needed to talk to Syd.
He hadn't talked to her in what felt like ages. She had taken some time off from work after… Obviously. He had asked Jack how she was doing once or twice, and Tippin had spontaneously come to speak with him, but that was all. To Jack, to Will, Sydney was the only person with good reasons to be hurting. The lover. He wished they'd just go to hell. He had had to go to the office everyday since Mike had died, to fill reports about that fucking mission, as if it were just another trivial event in his life. To see the empty desk when he looked up, and then, a few days later, to see the young agent who had been given the spot.
Vaughn had been his friend, too. Everybody else seemed to forget that, but he didn't. There would be no more nights out, no more guys talk by the coffee machine, no more teasing or bantering. Sure, he had some other friends, some of them he was closer to than he had ever been to Vaughn. But that didn't lessen the pain he felt.
He was as afraid to add up Sydney's pain to his own as he was to add up Emilie's. But the latter needed some closure. He owed it to his friend to help her get what she needed.
He didn't know what Sydney needed. The woman had lost a man she'd loved before. He still remembered the half-crazy look on her face the first time he had seen her. He had been relieved, then, that Vaughn had been the one ordered to be her handler. He did not want to deal with crazy people.
He really didn't want to deal with Sydney now. He should just go back to where he came from, call Craig, get drunk, and forget about the women in Vaughn's life.
Instead, he found himself knocking on her door.
Get a grip, damn you, get a grip
It was Tippin who opened. Something he had expected.
"Hey. Is Sydney around?"
Stupid question. He doubted Sydney had gone anywhere since Monday morning.
"Actually, she's not. She said something about the pier, or the cemetery. She was pretty confused, but she seemed better."
Moron. As if she could get better in a mere week's time.
He pondered over the pros and cons of waiting for her. Decided looking for the woman was probably the best course of action.
"The pier?" he asked.
"Yeah. She didn't say why, just that she wanted to go there. She took the car. I didn't want to let her drive, but she said she wanted to be alone."
Alone with Mike and her memories.
"You want to wait for her here?"
Weiss shook his head quickly. "I was just passing by, wanted to say hi. Thanks for the offer."
He hurried away from the house, letting a bemused Tippin staring after him. He wondered how the guy could fail to see the pain he was surrounded by.
The next logical stop was the cemetery. He drove by slowly, but did not see her there. He kept driving to Santa Monica.
He parked his car a few streets away, feeling the need to walk for a while. He stopped when he saw her leaning against the railing. Brown hair, dark clothes, shoulders hunched, head hung down. He could see another figure watching her from afar. He walked to Jack Bristow's side.
"She has been here for two hours." Bristow's voice was, as always, devoid of any emotion.
"What's she been doing?"
"Staring. Just staring."
Weiss turned his attention back to the woman. Sure, she was staring off into the distance. He wondered if the place held any kind of significance to them.
"I have to talk to her, Jack. She's not the only one needing closure."
Bristow looked at him calmly.
"He had a family too, you know."
Jack nodded and turned away. "Make sure she gets back home safely," he added as an after-thought after a few steps.
"Yeah," Weiss mumbled. He braced himself and walked to Sydney.
"I just want to be left alone."
He leaned against the railing too, and focused his eyes on a distant boat. He was mad. Mad at Vaughn for dying, mad at Emilie for making him do this, mad at Sydney for not seeing she was not the only one hurting.
"Mike's sister phoned me today. She was at his place yesterday."
"I know," was the barely audible answer. He was surprised, but he figured she'd tell him more if she wanted to.
Apparently, she didn't. "She asked if you wanted your stuff back," he asked matter-of-factly, and cursed himself for doing that at once. Smooth, really smooth, Eric.
She let her head fall down even lower. He could see her shoulders shaking. He put an arm around her and pulled her to him. Letting his hand rub up and down her arm in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. Eventually, her sobs subsided.
"It's too early, Weiss." Still more tears were soaking his shirt. "I can't…"
He just held her and stroked her hair. Of course, it was too early. He'd bet Emilie knew that too. She'd just have to wait.
He was not mad at them any longer.