Hope you enjoy!
Edited 12/1/07: Just some minor changes. Nothing drastic. Thanks to those who so nicely pointed out my mistakes. Thanks guys.
5:48 PM Eastern Time
"- As for the present [debate of uncertainty over the growing [candle over an alleged government assassination program so named BLACKBRIAR, CIA director Edward Craver is under criminal investigation for authorizing the program, which in several cases may have even harmed U.S. Citizens-"
The reporter's voice grabbed her attention, making her look up from her book. BLACKBRIAR was being discussed over international news, exposed by Agent Landy, she was informed,
"New Agency officials have already been arrested. Dr. Albert Hierst, the alleged mastermind of the BLACKBRIAR program and CIA director Noah Vosen, the program's operational chief-"
Could she really help feeling a sense of pride at seeing Hierst and Vosen being led into the vehicles in handcuffs and led by law enforcement to be taken away to a practically decided trial at court? She glanced down, letting out a breath of worry she didn't know she had been holding,
"Meanwhile, mystery surrounds the [location of David Webb-"
Her head shot up once more, her eyes widening at the photograph of Jason, rather David on the screen. It was an older picture, Jason's hair out grown a bit of the close cropped hairstyle she had left him in a few days ago. Gripping the edges of the table in anxiety about news of Jason, she leaned in her seat a bit further,
"-Also known as Jason Bourne, the source of the exposure of the BLACKRIAR program. It's been reported that Webb was shot and fell from a Manhattan roof top in the East River, ten stories below,"
Her fingers slipped from the grip she had on the edge of the table. Shot? Somehow, it seemed surreal. He couldn't be…dead, could he?
"However, after a three day search, Webb's body is yet to be found."
Without thinking, a smile appeared in her face, relief ebbing into her body. And they wouldn't find him. She looked down, the smile not gone. He was a long way away from the East River by now. Jason Bourne was not dead.
Emerging from the entrance of the small pub, she re-adjusted her bag under her sweater clad shoulder and began walking. Slightly tilting her head down, she walked away from the pub and towards her temporary home, a few blocks away. A small weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Jason was okay. She didn't have to worry about them finding him now. Though, the small stitch of having heard him injured was still there, she knew he had been off worse back in Morocco, after having killed Desh. Fingering the edge of her short curly black hair in thought, she turned a corner, engulfed in the cool shadow of the complex buildings holding apartments in the street. A few children played soccer running down the street, being more of a sidewalk than a way for cars to drive through. A small crowd were heading towards her, each in their own conversation. To avoid collision, she sidestepped the crowd, not even acknowledged and continued walking. Unfortunately, she didn't measure the precise distance and managed to bump into someone's shoulder.
"Sorry," she apologized over her shoulder, continuing walking. No reply was heard but she didn't bother. Her apartment was a two blocks away. She paused at a cross section, a few cars driving by slowly having been let to pass. She sighed under her breath.
"It get's easier," he had told her. She had stare at him, in that second having no words to reply back. Deciding to go before she said accumulate words she might later regret, she had turned and boarded the bus, not glancing back to see if he still stood at the platform. Had it really? Did it get easier?
The lights changed and signaled her to move, which she did. Crowds from both sides maneuvered briskly to get to the other side, bumping into her once in a while. Suddenly, a cell phone rang. She flinched. It was near. Seeing no one talking into a device or picking one up from their coat pockets, she flinched again when she realized the phone that was ringing…came from her sweater pockets. She now noticed the slight bulge of the phone and cautiously pulled it out. But…she didn't own a cell phone. A sense of dread chilled her spine, encouraging to quicken her step. The phone rang again, and she paused, now on the other side of the street, closer to her apartment. Flipping the phone open, she placed it at her ear. "Hello?" Silence. She should have flipped it closed then, but she hesitated. "Hello?"
"Parsons." she froze.
"…Bourne?" It couldn't be him. He was injured, still in the US. Maybe it was a trick? "How-?" Her feet automatically began to lead her back to her apartment, turning to face the long stair case to the second to the top apartment.
"Was it done?" he asked, his voice void of emotion. Sharp and direct as ever. She drew a blank and stopped, half way up the stairs. Was what done?
"…Do you mean was BLACKBRIAR exposed?"
"It was. Landy had evidence and took it to court," she paused, "Hierst and Vosen have been taken to trial." She could have sworn she heard him sigh, but she wasn't sure. Continuing her step, she walked up the old stairs, not once glancing down. "Were you the source? I mean, was it you who exposed those files containing names and the actions of BLACKBRIAR?" the words slipped from her mouth.
"Yes." She gritted her teeth in slight irritation. She wasn't going to get information from him. He was too good. The training had been successful…until he had begun to remember. She paused, all irritation gone, her key in the door. His memory, had he regained it?
"B-Bourne?" She opened her door, in a slight daze, only keening to hear a reply from him. She slammed the door shut, letting her bad drop onto the small chair besides the door. The apartment was simple, some parts bare. She didn't have much. It was dark, the sun should be setting outside but she wasn't sure. She always left the windows and doors closed and locked, after she left. "Are you there?" Silence. She gripped the edge of the sweater, attempting to try to take it off. "…Bourne?" she paused, closing her eyes, "H-Have you - I mean, do you…remember? Have you…recuperated your memory?" The dark sweater fell onto the floor.
"I have." She whipped around, dropping the phone onto the couch. A male figure stood against the door way towards her small bedroom, encased in shadow. But she didn't need light to know who it was. He stepped forward, his blue eyes encased in thought, his face an emotionless mask.
"Jason," she stated his name. He made a move to the table besides her, making her lean back into the back of the couch. The light turned on, instantly alighting the familiar face of the man that had sent her into the train. Though, this time, it was encase in bruises and cuts, making her flinch. "My God," she whispered under her breath. She straightened, feeling exposed under his gaze, her arms falling unless at her sides. He too straightened, facing her. He looked slightly tired, yet she knew, because of his training, he could keep going, well into many sleepless nights, working on energy she yet didn't know from where. He wore the same black coat he had the night they had departed at the train station. "H-How did you find me?" His eyes seemed to have taken in the fact that she in fact was standing in front of him, escaping from their thoughts.
"I know where to look," he replied, his voice a tone softer than she remembered. Tension filled the air between them. She looked down.
"Are you in pain?" She couldn't help but feel for the pain his body exposed. Even if he was good at hiding it.
"No." Without thinking, she turned and walked in a few steps into her small kitchen, grabbing a small towel to run under ice cold water. She heard movement and gaze uncertainly as he sat down on the couch. She closed the faucet and walked to his side.
"Here," she offered the moist towel. He didn't meet her gaze but took it, pressing it to a cut to his chin and lip. She bit her lip. His hands wore redness from usage and a few cuts here and there. How did he managed to be so nonchalant about his injuries, training or not? "Jason," she started. He flinched at the name, finally looking up to meet her hazel eyes. Hers widened.
"I am no longer Jason Bourne." He didn't let go of her eyes, nor did she feel like looking away. Something ferocious was still underneath those eyes. "I remember, everything." She sharply looked away then, her hand moving to her mouth. He rose.
"E-Everything?" she whispered.
"Yes." Tears managed to spring to her eyes, but they did not fall. She felt him, his body behind hers. Suddenly, his hand was on her shoulder, turning her with not much force yet enough to make her. She fearfully stared into his eyes. Her practiced apology died at her lips. She had meant for her part of her story to have been told by her but if he knew already…there was no way she could expect his forgiveness. Not that she thought he would have forgiven her in the first place. He seemed to be searching for something. What, she did not know. He withdrew from the space between them and stood more firmly. She felt a tear escape. His eyes took the formal look she was so accustomed to. "I need your help."
There's my first attempt at a Bourne Fanfiction. If it isn't obvious by now, this took place after Ultimatum. Sorry for the Spoilers for those who haven't seen it. The beginning speech made by the reporter are more or less the actual things he said in the movie….how I got a hold of it, will not be mentioned :D hehehe.
Oh and I realized that I misspelled the names of the characters and such, and if someone would nicely point out how they're spelled, it would really be appreciated.
I hope you enjoy and perhaps ask for chapter two? If not... than that's okay.
If anything, it would be a slight Jason(David)/Nikki story. Please no flaming. I really did like Marie. She was a good character in the other two movies. I was taken aback when she was killed in the second one (spoiler!) but I'm just taking a swing at this for the first time. Hope you enjoyed.