Safe Haven - Part 2
Oct. 12th, 2007 08:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
diandrahollmanTitle: Safe Haven
E-Mail: diandrahollman@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13 to R for language and violence. One brief NC-17 scene at the end.
Keywords: Crossover, Alias/X-Files/Lost, slash, Vaughn/Mulder, Jack, hurt/comfort, angst
Spoilers: Only if you never watched season 5 of Alias or any season of Lost.
Disclaimer: All characters from The X-Files belong to Chris Carter and 1013. All other non-original characters belong to JJ Abrams and Bad Robot. I will put most of them back when I'm done with them, but I can't make any promises about Vaughn. The nurse is mine; any resemblance to the coroner on CSI: Miami is purely coincidental.
Author's Notes: This is basically the fourth of “The Detox Series” that was supposed to be a trilogy. You could probably follow without reading the first three stories but it doesn't hurt to read the last one (Serenity) at least. You can find them on my website (above).
MULDER
'Shit. Shit shit shit.'
I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to do. I had no idea why this man would want to hurt Vaughn, but after I saw the telltale outline of a gun underneath his jacket I was afraid to ask. The only thing that was clear was that I had to get Vaughn to a hospital. Fast. Preferably without this guy suspecting that we were on to him. And I had to do it quickly, while Vaughn was still conscious and mostly coherent.
I gulped the rest of my soda and stood nonchalantly. "Okay, let's go." I guided Vaughn from the booth and drew his arm over my shoulders, wrapping my free arm around his waist and walking him to the bar. I handed more than enough money for the two drinks to the bartender. "I think five is his limit," I said with a smirk. The bartender blinked at me in confusion, likely because he knew Vaughn hadn't ordered that much, but
didn't say anything. Likely because the money I gave him covered at least six drinks.
I walked slowly, trying not to stagger too much under Vaughn's nearly dead weight. As we passed the end of the bar, I saw the man in the leather jacket out of the corner of my eye. He watched us for a moment, then raised his hand to his ear and muttered something under his breath. Shit.
I tried to move faster once we exited the bar, but Vaughn's increasingly uncoordinated movements hampered my progress.
I managed to manhandle him into the passenger seat of my car and was just buckling him in when I heard footsteps behind me. I froze, unsure of whether I should try to face down this goon by myself or continue to play the dumb, unsuspecting boyfriend. Vaughn chose this moment to break through his haze, his eyes widening as he struggled to focus on the figure behind me. That made my mind up for me. I had the gun out of my ankle holster and pointed at the goon before he knew what I was doing. Luckily for me, he had only started reaching for his own weapon.
"Hands where I can see them," I ordered.
He pulled his hand out from beneath his leather jacket with an annoyed sigh, raising both hands in a gesture of surrender.
"What do you want?"
"I would think that much would be obvious," he said smoothly.
"Who are you," I tried. "Why do you want him dead?"
"Who I am is none of your concern," he shot back. "The same goes for my orders."
"Get on your knees," I growled.
He obeyed, a tiny smirk lighting his face. "Go ahead," he taunted. "Shoot me. It will only buy you a little time. With that much GHB in his system, Mr. Vaughn will be dead before you make it to a hospital."
I grit my teeth and slammed the passenger side door. "Don't move."
His smirk grew wider as I made my way to the driver's side door, keeping my gun trained on him. "Tell me, Agent Mulder...how does it feel to watch someone close to you die?"
I made the mistake of sparing a glance at Vaughn and he took the opportunity to reach for his weapon. The shot rang out before I realized I had pulled the trigger. The goon slumped to the ground, a pool of blood quickly blossoming beneath his head. I dove into the car and peeled away before anyone came to investigate the source of the noise.
I wrestled Vaughn's cell phone from his pocket with my right hand, my left gripping the wheel so hard my knuckles were turning white. I hit number one on the speed dial and put the phone on speaker.
"Hello," a female voice answered after a couple rings.
"Sydney, it's Mulder. Somebody just tried to kill Vaughn. I'm taking him to a hospital right now."
"Oh my god, how bad is it?"
"I don't know. I have to get him to a hospital fast."
"Where are you?"
"We just left Gunnerson's bar..."
"Stay off the 405. It'll take too long. There should be a hospital closer." I heard her flipping pages frantically in the background. "St. Sebastien's," she said triumphantly. "It's off the main freeway, but you can take the back roads from where you are."
"Okay, I think I know where that is," I said, never more relieved to find out that my frequent visits to LA and subsequent working knowledge of the city were finally paying off. "I'll meet you there."
I hung up and reached for Vaughn's hand, bringing it to my lips for a quick, reassuring kiss. "It's okay, Vaughn. We'll be there in a few minutes."
He squeezed my hand weakly, his head lolling drunkenly in my direction. "Can't...Mul..." He breathed noisily, as if he was struggling to draw air into his lungs.
"Just hang on, baby," I babbled, barely managing to keep the panic from my voice, trying to keep him calm. "You're gonna be fine." If only I was actually as confident as I sounded.
Next Chapter
'Shit. Shit shit shit.'
I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to do. I had no idea why this man would want to hurt Vaughn, but after I saw the telltale outline of a gun underneath his jacket I was afraid to ask. The only thing that was clear was that I had to get Vaughn to a hospital. Fast. Preferably without this guy suspecting that we were on to him. And I had to do it quickly, while Vaughn was still conscious and mostly coherent.
I gulped the rest of my soda and stood nonchalantly. "Okay, let's go." I guided Vaughn from the booth and drew his arm over my shoulders, wrapping my free arm around his waist and walking him to the bar. I handed more than enough money for the two drinks to the bartender. "I think five is his limit," I said with a smirk. The bartender blinked at me in confusion, likely because he knew Vaughn hadn't ordered that much, but
didn't say anything. Likely because the money I gave him covered at least six drinks.
I walked slowly, trying not to stagger too much under Vaughn's nearly dead weight. As we passed the end of the bar, I saw the man in the leather jacket out of the corner of my eye. He watched us for a moment, then raised his hand to his ear and muttered something under his breath. Shit.
I tried to move faster once we exited the bar, but Vaughn's increasingly uncoordinated movements hampered my progress.
I managed to manhandle him into the passenger seat of my car and was just buckling him in when I heard footsteps behind me. I froze, unsure of whether I should try to face down this goon by myself or continue to play the dumb, unsuspecting boyfriend. Vaughn chose this moment to break through his haze, his eyes widening as he struggled to focus on the figure behind me. That made my mind up for me. I had the gun out of my ankle holster and pointed at the goon before he knew what I was doing. Luckily for me, he had only started reaching for his own weapon.
"Hands where I can see them," I ordered.
He pulled his hand out from beneath his leather jacket with an annoyed sigh, raising both hands in a gesture of surrender.
"What do you want?"
"I would think that much would be obvious," he said smoothly.
"Who are you," I tried. "Why do you want him dead?"
"Who I am is none of your concern," he shot back. "The same goes for my orders."
"Get on your knees," I growled.
He obeyed, a tiny smirk lighting his face. "Go ahead," he taunted. "Shoot me. It will only buy you a little time. With that much GHB in his system, Mr. Vaughn will be dead before you make it to a hospital."
I grit my teeth and slammed the passenger side door. "Don't move."
His smirk grew wider as I made my way to the driver's side door, keeping my gun trained on him. "Tell me, Agent Mulder...how does it feel to watch someone close to you die?"
I made the mistake of sparing a glance at Vaughn and he took the opportunity to reach for his weapon. The shot rang out before I realized I had pulled the trigger. The goon slumped to the ground, a pool of blood quickly blossoming beneath his head. I dove into the car and peeled away before anyone came to investigate the source of the noise.
I wrestled Vaughn's cell phone from his pocket with my right hand, my left gripping the wheel so hard my knuckles were turning white. I hit number one on the speed dial and put the phone on speaker.
"Hello," a female voice answered after a couple rings.
"Sydney, it's Mulder. Somebody just tried to kill Vaughn. I'm taking him to a hospital right now."
"Oh my god, how bad is it?"
"I don't know. I have to get him to a hospital fast."
"Where are you?"
"We just left Gunnerson's bar..."
"Stay off the 405. It'll take too long. There should be a hospital closer." I heard her flipping pages frantically in the background. "St. Sebastien's," she said triumphantly. "It's off the main freeway, but you can take the back roads from where you are."
"Okay, I think I know where that is," I said, never more relieved to find out that my frequent visits to LA and subsequent working knowledge of the city were finally paying off. "I'll meet you there."
I hung up and reached for Vaughn's hand, bringing it to my lips for a quick, reassuring kiss. "It's okay, Vaughn. We'll be there in a few minutes."
He squeezed my hand weakly, his head lolling drunkenly in my direction. "Can't...Mul..." He breathed noisily, as if he was struggling to draw air into his lungs.
"Just hang on, baby," I babbled, barely managing to keep the panic from my voice, trying to keep him calm. "You're gonna be fine." If only I was actually as confident as I sounded.
Next Chapter
